


Stockholm Syndrome

by sherleigh



Category: SHINee
Genre: AU, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 22,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherleigh/pseuds/sherleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you convince a hostage that his affection for you is just Stockholm Syndrome? </p><p> </p><p>In which Key is an assassin and Taemin is the hostage he can't seem to get rid of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> New writer, new fic. If you leave a review I would be over the moon. 
> 
> I have not posted many warnings in the summary, but I will be posting them in before each chapter, like so:
> 
> Act 1 warnings: minor!character death

**Act 1, Scene 1**

 

It is a routine job, as far as these things could ever be routine. Some rich businessman or another who had failed to honour his underground obligations after making it big enough to hire a couple of bodyguards. The house is your typical on-top-of-a-hill modern mansion, all glass and steel and no elegance whatsoever.

 

**Act 1, Scene 2**

 

The bodyguards _all two of them, what a joke_ are easy enough to despatch in minutes. Kibum doesn’t break a sweat. He never expected to.

 

The man, as expected, is in the master bedroom with his wife. They are awake and active when Kibum comes in through the window, but it takes no more than a minute to silence them both with his Glock 19. Unfortunately, he had not considered the mistress being present as well, and she manages to make it out of the door screaming before he can take care of her.

 

No matter. He is supposed to empty the house anyway, as a warning to future contemnors. This is merely a complication.

 

There is an elderly woman in the first room downstairs. The mistress, who is currently lying dead on the stairs, did not wake her at all. His bullet lets her sleep for all time.

 

**Act 1, Scene 3**

 

There are two boys, he knows. Kibum prides himself on his research; it’s one of the reasons he does so well. Both in high school – they could put up a fight. He goes to deal with the elder first, but the boy’s bedroom is empty. He understands enough psychology to know where the boy would have run to, though.

 

There is no light in the younger’s room, but the boys are breathing heavily enough that he can hear exactly where they are. It is easy enough to find the light switch – on the right wall next to the door – and Kibum throws it on. The elder boy has ducked behind a nightstand, but Kibum can see from the door that he is a 6-footer at least. It takes two shots to fell him; one to the back and another one in the head.

 

The younger dashes out from underneath the bed when he delivers the kill shot and makes a run for the door, but somehow stumbles over his own feet and falls into Kibum.

 

The gun goes skittering into the corner. The kid is all elbows and fight and soft long hair, and Kibum throws himself atop the smaller boy to stop him from getting away. The boy wriggles out of his grasp with surprising flexibility and flees the room. Cursing, Kibum retrieves his gun and gives chase.

 

The boy hasn’t gotten very far. The front door is operated by a passcode and his fingers shake too hard for him to key it in. He turns around and Kibum lifts his gun, ready to end everything within his self-imposed time limit of ten minutes. Two surprises in one night is not something he is happy with.

 

Where his brother cowered, the boy is defiant, raising his chin to look at Kibum from underneath his ridiculously long fringe. Up close, Kibum can appreciate the fact that he is stunningly beautiful, but that makes no difference because he’s killed many beautiful people before.

 

Then the boy looks at him, looks straight into his eyes, and Kibum finds himself unable to pull the trigger. 


	2. Act 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 up.

**Act 2, Scene 1**

 

The boy is in the backseat, handcuffed at the hands and ankles. Kibum is not really sure what he’s doing at this point, but he knows that he cannot afford to linger in the large house while contemplating why he cannot bring himself to kill this one kid.

 

Kibum drives them out of the city and into the suburbs on the edge of Seoul, where he knows of enough abandoned vacation homes to be able to finish off the job. He checks the boy in the rearview mirror meticulously, but so far his mark has been unresponsive. He has been staring out of the window and, apart from shivering slightly, made no visible movements.

 

The road takes them up a hill and around a large pasture, and when they turn the corner, the night sky is speckled with stars. The Milky Way is visible in all her glory and even Kibum slows down to enjoy the sight. Suddenly, there is movement in the back. The kid has scooted over to the driver’s side and pressed his face against the window, amazement writ large across his umblemished features. In that moment, he looks as beautiful as the night sky he is admiring, and Kibum feels the unwelcome stirring of his conscience.

 

**Act 2, Scene 2**

 

“Have you seen anything like this before?”

 

The kid’s voice startles Kibum fractionally. For a moment, he contemplates remaining silent, but decides that he is not so unprofessional as to be rendered incapable of completing a job simply because he has exchanged a few pleasantries with the mark. He knows this from experience.

 

“Once, a long time ago.”

“In Seoul?” His voice is as soft and silky as his hair.

 

“No, in Dadohae Haesang.”

 

There is no response from the kid. “That’s all the way south, near Wando.”

 

“I know where Dadohaehaesang is.”

 

“Well, pardon me. Clearly the reports about the education system going down the drain are all lies.”

 

“There was a school trip in my second year.” The kid’s voice is small and sad. “I couldn’t go because Appa wouldn’t sign my consent form.”

 

Kibum doesn’t really know what to say. A missed school trip is nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it must have meant enough to this kid for him to still be upset about it. He could say that the Appa was a bastard for not letting him go, but he doesn’t want to risk undamming the tears that the kid must be holding back.

 

“Please can we go to Dadohaehaesang?”

 

Of course not. No way. It would take weeks. What the hell is he thinking? Kibum opens his mouth to ask him if he is stupid, but the boy continues, speaking so fast that he stumbles over his words.

 

“I know you’re going to kill me and I know you must have other things to do and I don’t have any money to give you, but hyung, please, please let me have this one thing.”

 

And now he sounds on the verge of tears anyway and Kibum cannot deal with tears, so he says “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I'm a roll today.


	3. Act 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised regular updates, didn't I? 
> 
> Warnings: None.

**Act 3, Scene 1**

Kibum pulls into the driveway of the empty Seo residence and kills the engine. This is one of his favourite hideaways, since the hedges are thick and tall, and since the person who owns it is none other than an internationally wanted hacker who Kibum once helped tip off and who has let him have the run of the place since. 

He checks to make sure that none of the neighbours are looking before unlocking the doors and dragging the kid, still cuffed, into the house. 

To his credit, the kid does not ask to be uncuffed. He simply sits in the hall, eyes following Kibum around the room as he draws the blinds across the windows and scopes the place out. 

Kibum likes to think of himself as neither cruel nor stupid. He gives the kid a choice – he can be uncuffed, but only if he accepts being locked in the cupboard under the stairs with nothing more than a blanket and some pillows.

The kid accepts the offer. 

**Act 3, Scene 2**

The first thing Kibum does is to pull out his phone to check the news – he needs to know how the police will be dealing with the hits so that he can plan his next movements. It would be easier to watch the news on the 42 inch TV, but this is not something he wants his hostage overhearing. 

The media immediately sells it as a triad hit, which is what his clients were hoping for. No mention is made of the mistress, he notes. The family is reported as having been shot in their beds as they slept. And finally, he learns that the police think that the youngest member of the family has been kidnapped to be ransomed. The boy’s extended family have come forward to say that they would be willing to pay any price for his safe return.

His name is Taemin. 

**Act 3, Scene 3**

The dark smudges under Taemin’s eyes give away the fact that he hasn’t slept at all. Kibum didn’t expect him to. 

There is visible defeat in the slump of his shoulders and in the trembling of his lips, and he asks to be allowed to use the bathroom in a tone which suggests that he expects his request to be denied. 

Kibum takes the cuffs off his wrists and ankles and lets him into the bathroom alone. This is a test for him - he needs to know how much he can trust Taemin not to cut and run at the first opportunity if he’s going to be carting him halfway across the country. 

He hears retching and muffled sobs, but Taemin dutifully emerges less than 10 minutes later with his face and hands washed.


	4. Act 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 4 warning: brief allusion to sexual activity (pg-13, at best)

**Act 4, Scene 1**

The silence that follows them onto the highway is not something that Kibum knows how to deal with. He knows what a mistake it is to start seeing your mark as something human and thinks that the less words exchanged between them, the better, but there is something unnatural about the stillness which Taemin has wrapped around himself like a shroud.

 

He can’t talk to him about school or his friends or anything really, because everything will lead back to the fact that Kibum massacred his family and will kill him at the end of this macabre road trip.

 

Finally, he alights on something that they can talk about.

 

“We’ll need to get you new clothes.”

 

Taemin looks at him, and then down at his t-shirt and pyjama pants. “Yes.”

 

“We’ll stop in some village along the way. I intend to stay out of the city. You’re not cold or anything, right?”

 

“No.”

 

It’s difficult to talk to someone who answers you in monosyllables.

 

**Act 4, Scene 2**

 

He gets a call from Jinki. Jinki demands to know what he was thinking, but Jinki doesn’t panic and he doesn’t yell because Kibum is his best man and Kibum always has a good reason for doing what he does.

 

He unthinkingly puts Jinki on the speaker because he’s driving.

 

“Ki-”

 

And quickly realises what a terrible error that is. He grabs the phone off its dock and puts it to his ear. “I dumped the kid’s body down a sewer,” he lies. “He got out, I didn’t have time to drag the body back in.”

 

Jinki accepts what Kibum says, because Kibum has no reason to lie.

 

“Listen, I’m taking some time off. I’ll call you when I’m back in business.”

 

Kibum takes a lot of time off, so Jinki is not surprised.

 

When he hangs up, he can sense Taemin staring at him. He knows why.

 

“I’ve got a reputation to keep up. I’ll lose my clients if they find out about this.”

 

Taemin shrugs.

 

**Act 4, Scene 3**

As Kibum promised, he stops outside a small ‘modern fashion’ store in the backwater town they happen to be passing through.

 

The cashier eyes them as they walk in but stays behind the counter with her Kpop fanzine. Taemin’s pyjama pants are stylish enough to pass for proper pants here, and Kibum doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that. In another life, he had wanted to be a designer; he had dreamt of debuting on Seoul Fashion Week with his own menswear collection, but that was a long time ago. He cannot remember now what it felt like to have hopes and dreams.

 

“Pick what you want to wear.”

 

Taemin looks at him with disbelief. Kibum shrugs. “You’re the one who’s going to be wearing it.”

 

And then, for the first time, Taemin smiles. “Thank you, Key-hyung.”

 

Kibum waves him off, internally crushing underfoot the rush of adoration he felt at the smile and the moniker. Key-hyung indeed.

 

Taemin is decidedly less adorable when he comes back with leopard spotted jeans and a grandma-sized jumper with tassels and a dwarf hat. A fucking dwarf hat. Kibum eyes the combination in horror before deciding that he will put a bullet in his own head if he has to travel next to that, and takes the task of dressing Taemin onto his shoulders.

 

The shop is limited in its choices, but he manages to find a pair of ripped jeans which makes Taemin happy and dark blue capris, and  a couple of tops which he thinks will pair well with them. He pulls Taemin into the dressing room and hands him a white tank top with black mesh layered on top.

 

Taemin looks at him with wide eyes. “Aren’t you going to wait outside?”

 

“No, we don’t have the time. Try it on.”

 

“Can you not look?”

 

Kibum turns around with an exaggerated sigh and closes his eyes. When he hears Taemin pull his t-shirt off, he sneaks a peek through the mirror that is in front of him.

 

He sees immediately what the younger boy is trying to hide. There is a fading bite mark on his shoulder _Kibum knows a bite mark when he sees one_ and bruises on his hips that Kibum knows will correspond to fingers if he laid his own there.

 

Eyes firmly shut once more, he asks “So, does it fit?”

 

“Yes, hyung. But it’s uncomfortable. Can’t I just get a normal tank top?”

 

‘ _Stop hyung-ing me’_ Kibum wants to say. ‘ _You're far too experienced in the ways of the world to sound so young_.’ What he ends up saying is “Heathens. I’m surrounded by heathens. Will you at least condescend to wearing the capris, if you even know what I’m referring to?”

 

Taemin giggles. Yes, he will wear capris, if _Key-hyung_ will let him wear it with a white shirt. Kibum picks a white shirt with an undone blue cravat sewn to the neck.

 

Half an hour later, they leave the shop with four bags; two for each of them.  Taemin throws himself into the passenger seat and starts to fiddle with the radio, while Kibum tells himself that he was sexually active at Taemin’s age and that the churning in his stomach is not caused by a fear of something more sinister.

 

**Act 4, Scene 4**

 

They stop for a quick lunch of japchae. Taemin wolfs his noodles down like he hasn’t eaten in days; there is no grace in it and he doesn’t stop to make conversation. Kibum eats like he always eats – slowly, with the voice at the back of his head toting up the calories.

 

He lets the younger boy finish what is left of his portion.

 

When they get back into the car, Taemin falls asleep almost instantly. He looks cute, almost, with his head pillowed on a brand new jacket and his lips swollen like mentaiko. It occurs to Kibum that the most rational thing to do would be to end this now, when it’s still easy. All he needs to do is to put the gun against the boy’s head and pull the trigger; he wouldn’t even wake up.

 

He cannot, though, because the memory of Taemin looking up at him, cornered in his big house, keeps replaying in his mind; Taemin’s stance had been defiant in the face of death, but in his eyes there had been nothing but hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, anyone? Anyone at all?


	5. Act 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Newest chapter!
> 
> Act 5 warnings: none

**Act 5, Scene 1**

 

Kibum hasn’t slept in two days. He knows he will crash soon, but he cannot bring himself to trust that Taemin will continue to play the compliant little hostage when his eyes are shut.

 

He tells Taemin, who woke up as the afternoon turned into evening, to keep an eye out for guesthouses. They spot one in no time; a traditional house turned into a budget stay for holidaymakers. The lady who owns the place uses the front room and, at Kibum’s request, she gives him a room at the farthest end of the compound.

 

He gives the keys to Taemin and turns around to make sure the car is locked. That is all it takes. The keys make a light clinking sound as they fall to the ground and then there’s the scuffle of feet as Taemin makes a run for it into the scrubby undergrowth at the back of the guesthouse.

 

Kibum curses and takes off after him.

 

Taemin is no match for him; a rabbit against a fox. He zigzags to Taemin’s straight run and catches the back of the purple t-shirt he just bought for him. Taemin twists away from him, but he throws his arms around the thin waist and sends them both crashing to the ground – Taemin face first.

 

Fuelled by anger and disappointment, Kibum straddles the boy and uses his weight to keep him down, and roughly rolls him over so that he can knock some sense, or at least submission, into him.

 

He never gets that far. Taemin is crying underneath him, messy sobs that leave him gasping for air. His hands come up to shield his face and there is no fight left in him. Kibum feels tears pricking the corners of his own eyes. It is unfair to victimise him for his father’s sins, just as it is unfair for him to die so violently at so young an age, but there’s nothing anyone can do about it now.

 

“Hhhhsssshhhh,” he soothes, tentatively stroking Taemin’s bony wrist. “I’m sorry, Taemin. I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

 

Taemin takes a deep, shuddering breath, rolling onto his side, and Kibum can see tears falling off his cheeks. “I…I can’t stop.” He sucks in another breath, but when that fails to bring the tears to a stop, Kibum feels him panic. “I can’t stop.”

 

“It’s okay,” he says immediately, shifting so that his weight rests on his knees now. “It’s okay, Taemin-ah. I don’t mind if you cry.”

 

“Nobody does.” Taemin says it so quietly through the veil of his tears that Kibum almost misses it. Again, he ignores the uneasiness in his heart at the implication of those words, because there is no point burdening himself with things he cannot fix.

 

Kibum takes to patting him gently on the back of his shoulder, the way he has seen mothers do for crying babies. It takes a few minutes, but Taemin calms down in the end. When he does, Kibum gently takes his wrists in his hands and pulls the boy to face him.

 

“Taemin, are you going to try to run away again?”

 

Kibum can see Taemin think about it. Finally, he says “I don’t want to die.”

 

It’s an honest answer, and it tells Kibum a lot more than Taemin thinks it does. It tells him that each failed escape attempt makes the next one more difficult, and that Taemin might try again, but he won’t do it by lying or cheating.

 

“I cannot take you to Dadohaehaesang without sleeping. Or using the bathroom. You understand that, right?”

 

“I promise not to run away when you’re sleeping. Or using the bathroom. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but,” Taemin shrugs “I promise. Or you could always handcuff me or lock me in a cupboard.”

 

“What about the rest of the time?”

 

Taemin takes a moment to consider this, and then says “Don’t turn your back on me, Key-hyung.”

 

**Act 5, Scene 2**

 

Because they are given traditional tatamis to sleep on, he has no choice but to cuff Taemin to himself. Taemin complains that he isn’t sleepy anymore. Kibum tells him that he doesn’t care. He puts the gun under the sink in the bathroom, where there is no chance of Taemin reaching it before he does.

 

Kibum sleeps dreamlessly. Taemin only disturbs him three times; first, when he curses loudly and leads Kibum to discover that he had somehow slipped his phone out of his pocket and been playing Angry Birds on it _and Kibum nearly has an aneurysm because he could have used it to call the police, only the thought doesn’t seem to have occurred to the younger boy_ , second when he does it again and apologises, and third, when he’s woken up by Lady Gaga playing from his severely-battery-depleted-phone to find that Taemin, against all odds, has fallen asleep with his back curled into Kibum’s side.

 

You do not become a top assassin by blinding yourself to the truth. Kibum prides himself for being a realist and a pragmatist, so he knows that he has crossed a line with Taemin. He’s not just a mark anymore. He wants Taemin to smile, he wants Taemin’s last days to be happy ones.

 

He can still pull the trigger, he doesn’t doubt that. He anticipates paying penance in too many bottles of soju and rough fucks by strangers in shady clubs, but that is a pain he can live through.

 

The thing is, Kibum thinks as he watches the rise and fall of Taemin’s chest, he’s not so sure that he’ll be in the same state of mind by the time they reach their final destination.

 

**Act 5, Scene 3**

 

Taemin is addicted to games. He plays Angry Birds and Candy Crush and Mario while Kibum drives, and it’s a lucky thing that people rarely call or text him.

 

Finally, annoyed at the various beeps and chimes that randomly punctuate the air, Kibum swipes the phone from his hand and docks it to play his driving playlist.

 

There is a lot of Lady Gaga in it. There is a lot of Lady Gaga in most of his playlists. Taemin nods along and hums and bounces in his seat and Kibum wonders absently whether he should keep the boy on a low sugar diet.   

 

**Act 5, Scene 4**

 

When he’s played all of the games on Kibum’s phone, Taemin starts asking him questions.

 

“Do you dye your hair blonde as a disguise?”

 

“Is this your car?”

 

“Are you rich?”

Kibum shrugs. “I have enough money that I can pay for this roadtrip without having to sell my flat. But I don’t have a million dollars or drink champagne for breakfast or stuff like that.”

 

“Oh.” Taemin loses interest in his questions as fast as he asks them. Kibum figures he doesn’t really care about the answers.

 

“Are you gay?”

 

“What?” He sees that question in the eyes of everyone around him, but very few people have the gall to ask him outright. Only two, in fact – Jinki and … him.

 

“You do listen to a lot of Lady Gaga. And you like fashion.”

 

It takes Kibum a while to realise he’s being teased, and that there is no hostility in Taemin’s question. “Yes, I’m gay. So what?”

 

“Just curious, that’s all.”

 

“What about you? Guys or girls or both?”

 

Taemin shrugs and looks out of the window. “I don’t know. I don’t like anyone.”

 

 _But you have bite marks on your skin and bruises on your hips and scars on your heart_ , Kibum thinks. _Please tell me that some of them were consensual_.

 

Instead he asks “What do you like, then?”

 

The curse of the privileged is that because everything is easy to get, nothing is precious. Taemin mulls over the question for a long time, before quietly saying “Dancing.”

“Dancing? Like, waltzing?”

 

“No, like Kpop. Boyband stuff.”

 

“Huh. We’ll have to take you clubbing sometime.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A review would be nice.


	6. Act 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 6 warnings: brief mentions of sexual assault

**Act 6, Scene 1**

 

“How on earth did you manage to get away with this hairstyle in school? Or do they not care about these things anymore?”

 

“When your Appa funds the school, you can do whatever you want.” There is bitterness in Taemin’s voice, which leads Kibum to think that he might have been made fun of for his wealth; the poor little rich kid.

 

Kibum works more clay into Taemin’s shoulder-length hair and scrapes his fringe away from his face, clipping it back with a pin. A few more strokes tousles the hair to Kibum’s satisfaction, and he adds a little eyeliner to the corner of Taemin’s eyes to finish things up.

 

“What do you think?”

 

Taemin studies his reflection in the mirror. “I look like a whore.”

 

Kibum sputters at the ingratitude, and Taemin turns around to look at him. “I look like your whore. That’s cool.”

 

It takes the forced memory of Taemin drooling on the dashboard to drive away the image of him spread out on a bed, moaning Kibum’s name.

 

**Act 6, Scene 2**

 

Watching Taemin dance is like seeing a flower bloom. Kibum is awed. The boy’s movements are so clean and so precise, but that is not what sets him apart; it’s the sheer joy that radiates from him as he dances.

 

Kibum is not a bad dancer himself, although he prefers more sensual movements – the roll of his hips, the snaking invitation of an arm – that catch the eyes of man and woman alike.

 

Taemin dances with him, and him alone. That was one of his rules. He couldn’t risk giving him contact with people who might get ideas about liberating him, especially in an environment where he could easily lose sight of them. His only other rule is not accepting drinks from strangers.

 

SNSD’s Genie plays. Kibum shoves his way onto the middle of the dance floor, dragging Taemin with him.

 

“Watch and learn, aegy.”

 

He knows the moves to this song; has danced to it so many times that he’ll remember it even after he forgets his own name. He is in his element as he does that hand-swirling move, so he barely notices Taemin step by his side. He does notice, though, when Taemin begins dancing right along with him. His movements are less sure than Kibum’s, but he keeps up so well that they look like they’re part of a band. People stop and stare at them, the twink whose every move is an invitation to fuck and the obviously underage girl-boy who makes everyone a paedophile, but they are so trapped in a trance of their own making that the crowd ceases to matter.

 

Applause rains when they finish. The lights from the deejay’s table are shining into his eyes. Kibum distantly wonders whether he might have made it as an idol, whether he might have enjoyed dancing for a living.

 

He looks over to find Taemin staring up at him with undisguised adoration. And then, just as he is coming down from the high, the younger boy leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Kibum’s lips.

 

**Act 6, Scene 3**

 

The many, many flavoured shots their appreciative crowd buys for them with mark their reappearance by burning his throat on their way out.

 

Taemin is waiting outside, keeping his promise not to run away when Kibum is in the bathroom. He has knocked on the door of the stall twice already, first enquiring whether the elder wanted water and later checking if he was still alive.

 

The worst of the heaves are over and he’s leaning over the bowl to soothe his aching head when he hears something not quite right outside. There is the sound of feet shuffling and muffled begging _which he’s heard enough times in this profession, thank you_ and then he realises that Taemin has not knocked on the door for the longest time.

 

It only takes the briefest moment for the nausea to disappear and for his head to clear. He throws the stall door open to see Taemin being pressed to the wall by a man twice his size. The smaller boy’s hands are pinned under the man’s weight and he is crying his denials into the wall as the man’s hands scrabble at the ripped jeans Kibum brought for him. Hideous blunt fingernails leave gashes in Taemin’s fair skin, right over the healing bruises.

 

His gun is out and pointed at the man’s head before he can contemplate the wisdom of the move.

 

“Let him go.”

 

The man complies, raising his hands as he does so. Kibum’s heart is beating so fast that he’s afraid he might black out.

 

Taemin wobbles to Kibum’s side. He takes Kibum’s bicep in his hands.

 

“Let’s go, Key-hyung. Please.”

 

“Did he hurt you?”

 

Taemin shakes his head, but it’s a lie. How can it not be a lie, when Taemin’s lip is split and his hips sport new bruises and he is shaking like his legs are going to give out in seconds?

 

“I should kill you.”

 

The man pisses himself. Kibum laughs. Taemin buries his face in Kibum’s shoulder and trembles. 


	7. Act 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 7 warnings: brief allusion to sexual assault

**Act 7, Scene 1**

 

They are checked into a proper hotel this time; one with good water pressure, a TV and minibar and soundproofed walls.

 

Taemin showers for a long time. Kibum doesn’t comment when he finally steps out of the bathroom blotched red and wrinkly. Kibum’s knowledge of first aid is good, but there is very little he can do for a busted lip and trauma.

 

He ignores the soft whimpers Taemin emits in his sleep. It’s not his job to coddle him, not his problem that the kid has been traumatised. Taemin is nothing to him, and he doesn’t _shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t_ care.

 

When Taemin starts begging for his Appa to stop, Kibum locks himself in the bathroom.

 

**Act 7, Scene 2**

 

Stockholm Syndrome - a _psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending them. The victims essentially mistake a lack of abuse from their captors for an act of kindness. The FBI's Hostage Barricade Database System shows that roughly 27% of victims show evidence of Stockholm syndrome._

 

Kibum is an assassin, not a kidnapper. Taking hostages is not something he does very often and he charges the sky for it, but he is not unfamiliar with it or with Stockholm Syndrome. It is useful to him; he is civil by nature and hostages are easier to handle when they think that you’re generally a decent person.

 

Given his background, it is not surprising that Taemin is showing clear signs of Stockholm Syndrome.

 

Lima Syndrome - _An inverse of Stockholm syndrome called Lima syndrome has been proposed, in which abductors develop sympathy for their hostages. It was named after an abduction at the Japanese Embassy in Lima, Peru, in 1996, when a militant movement took hostage hundreds of people attending a party at the official residence of Japan’s ambassador and released most of the hostages out of sympathy._

The screen of his IPhone blinks accusingly at him. Kibum is surprised for a moment, because sympathy is something with which he is unfamiliar. He has never imagined being stupid enough to feel sorry for a mark.

 


	8. Act 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 8 warnings: none

**Act 8, Scene 1**

 

Taemin is his usual self at the breakfast buffet the next morning. He inhales his noodles and has two omelettes and makes Kibum glad that he doesn’t have children to feed. While he eats, he fidgets. When he makes coffee for himself _Kibum resigns himself to dealing with hyperactivity later on_ , he spills sugar all over his side of the table.

 

Or, Taemin is almost his usual self. He doesn’t try to pickpocket Kibum’s phone, and when he smiles it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

Kibum tells himself that these are Taemin’s issues, not his.

 

**Act 8, Scene 2**

 

When they are on deserted roads again, Taemin asks to wind down a window. Kibum acquiesces, and turns the AC off.

 

When Taemin speaks next, his words are almost swallowed by the dull roar of the engine. “I’m not gay,” he says. “I’m not…but nobody asks. Nobody cares. I look like a girl so everyone thinks I must like being used like one.”

 

There is nothing Kibum can say to that.

 

“Actually, that wasn’t what I was going to say. I wanted to thank you.” He bows slightly. “Gomawo, Key-hyung. I am sorry to have caused you trouble.”

 

Kibum understands what Taemin is actually trying to say and reaches out to wrap his fingers around Taemin’s wrist. Taemin shifts his hand, though, and intertwines their fingers. They stay like that for a long time.

 

**Act 8, Scene 3**

Taemin develops a new habit. Kibum now finds himself being awoken in the middle of the night by the younger boy calling his name.

 

“Key-hyung,” he croaks over and over, pitch rising until Kibum answers him.

 

“Yah, aegy, what now?” he will say, but he never gets an answer. Whatever it is that disturbs him, Taemin always remains infuriatingly silent about it.

 

Sometimes, Kibum ignores him.

 

Sometimes, he drags himself out of bed and limps over to the younger’s bed to tuck back the sheets that he’s kicked off in his sleep. On those nights, he’ll sit down beside Taemin until the latter falls asleep, because he knows what it is like to face nightmares alone. 


	9. Act 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 9 warnings: none

**Act 9, Scene 1**

His occupation is by necessity a solitary one. Kibum relishes that solitude, wraps it around himself like armour, and gets through life with the companionship that he gets from strangers in nightclubs and Jinki and memories of people long gone. He feels like he has lived a thousand lifetimes already.

 

But with Taemin, Kibum feels his true age.

 

Like when Taemin beats all of his high scores on Candy Crush Saga and he plays the game all through lunch, even when Taemin steals his food, so that he can have his name on the leader board again.

 

“Almighty?” Taemin laughs. “Almighty what? Almighty prat?”

 

“Shut up. That’s better than yours, anyway. What was it?”

 

“Mushroom power.”

 

Kibum laughs. He laughs and laughs until tears run down the corners of his eyes, because it isn’t funny at all and what he is doing, killing a kid who thinks he’s a mushroom?

 

**Act 9, Scene 2**

 

He rediscovers his love for dancing. Kibum has always danced, but lately his dancing has had a purpose to it – to attract a partner, to dazzle a crowd. He rarely dances for the joy of dancing anymore.

 

Taemin doesn’t appear to know how to dance any other way. They watch too many videos of idol group dances on his phone – which has never seen this much use before – and compete to see who can learn it faster. Kibum always wins because he catches things quickly, but Taemin’s moves once he finally learns are more precise and more powerful. They practice in their guesthouses and hotel rooms and even in the car whenever Kibum has to take a break from driving _if he makes more stops than he needs, Kibum justifies to himself, it is because he hasn’t had a proper break in years_. 

 

They don’t talk about the kiss.

**Act 9, Scene 3**

Another of Taemin’s favourite pastimes is to attempt to shock Kibum into a heart attack.

 

The first time it happens is when they stop over a bridge, because Kibum likes the sound of rushing water. He looks up from the fast-flowing water to see Taemin halfway climbing onto the ledge. His first thought is that Taemin is trying to make another escape attempt – one that could cost his life.

 

“YAH, Lee Taemin!”

 

Taemin stops what he is doing and Kibum is for a moment floored to see him pout. “I won’t fall,” he says. “I’ve climbed lots of bridges.”

 

“Get down here right now, or I will push you off myself.”

 

This love of heights extends to leaning dangerously out of hotel rooms and, on one memorable occasion, out of the backseat window of the car. 

 

Whenever Kibum scolds him, calling him pabo and cursing his education, Taemin just giggles. It drives Kibum insane, the way he’ll just sit there and laugh his way through being told-off; secretly, it pleases him that Taemin thinks he’s witty. 

 

**Act 9, Scene 4**

 

When they reach Daegu, Kibum takes Taemin to all of his favourite clubs. It’s a weekday and there isn’t a chance of running into his associates _besides, he’s a firm believer in not shitting where he eats and never takes work to his private places_ or his casual one-offs, and they spend the whole night dancing to the songs they have learnt.

 

Taemin is exhausted by the time they make it back to the guesthouse, covered in a film of drying sweat and off his face on the one rum and coke that Kibum allowed him to have.

 

“Key-hyung,” Taemin slurs, picking at his shoelaces, “yah, Key-hyung, do you like me?”

 

This is not new to Kibum. He knows he’s attractive. He has behind him a trail of admirers and paramours who didn’t seem to understand that a fuck wasn’t equivalent to a declaration of interest. He holds alcohol responsible for most of these delusions, although it’s probably a combination of that and Stockholm Syndrome in this case.  

 

“I let you play with my phone, wear my clothes and steal my food. I teach you how to dance and take you clubbing instead of locking you in a closet like I should. What do you think?”

 

Taemin pulls at his shoelaces, and succeeds in tying them into a deadknot instead of untying them. He doesn’t look up from his feet. “Would you still like me if I didn’t want to sleep with you?”

 

Kibum knows he should shut Taemin down. He should put this silliness to rest before it grows into something he cannot handle. But he’s already stretched too thin and Taemin is looking small and vulnerable again and he’s probably so drunk he won’t remember this in the morning, so Kibum puts aside common sense and gives in to what he wants to do.

 

He crouches in front of a surprised Taemin and, like he did before, gently takes the boy’s wrists in his hands. “Taemin, if people only like you because you’ll sleep with them, that’s not liking you. That’s not love.”

 

Taemin shakes his head. “No, that’s not right. If…that would mean no one’s ever loved me. You’re wrong.”

 

There is no wisdom in the world that can answer that statement, so he drops Taemin’s hands and get to work on his shoelaces.

 

“Key-hyung.”

 

Kibum ignores him. When he’s freed the half-conscious boy from his shoes, he removes his jacket and hairclips as well. And then, because Kibum is nothing if not cautious, he takes the handcuffs out of his duffel bag like he does every night.

 

This time, Taemin shies away from Kibum as if the latter’s touch burns him. He buries his face in his knees, but sticks a trembling arm out a moment later. Something twists deep inside Kibum and he wants to say that he’s probably the only person in the world who hasn’t hurt Taemin, but the handcuffs in his hands would make him a liar. And because it’s late and he doesn’t want this to end in tears _one day Kibum will run out of excuses_ , he throws the cuffs aside.

 

“Okay. No more cuffs, okay?”

 

When Taemin does not respond, does not even look up, he pulls the covers out to make it easier for Taemin to tuck himself in and moves to turn the lights off.

 

Taemin’s hand closes like a vice around Kibum’s wrist. “Key-hyung, please.”

 

In that moment, Kibum would have given the whole world to Taemin if he asked for it. He doesn’t own the whole world, though. Not much of it at all. So he gives Taemin what he can, which is sanctuary and whispered endearments and gentle hands that stroke his hair without any expectation of repayment.   

 

Taemin falls asleep in his arms. Kibum is too tired, both physically and emotionally, to move, so he holds Taemin to his chest like he’s a stuffed toy and sleeps too.

 

**Act 9, Scene 5**

The after-effects of a good night out, for Kibum, are crusty eyelids and leaden limbs. He notes the fact that he is awake and vows immediately to rectify the situation. That is, until he registers the feeling of another body pressed flush against his, and adrenaline forces his eyes and body to awaken.

 

And then he sees Taemin, sleeping peacefully under his arm. His shoulder blades dig into Kibum’s chest and the heat between their bodies is uncomfortable, but he is the furthest thing from a threat and Kibum decides to let him sleep a little while more.

 

When Taemin wakes up, is it with start. He freezes and stills, holding his breath, but Kibum can feel his heart race. He guesses that this isn't the younger's first time waking up to company, and that whoever it was who had done this earlier hadn't been kind to him.

 

“Aegy,” he whispers to Taemin’s shoulder. “Taeminnie.”

 

Taemin turns around, and the look on his face is so unreservedly happy _to see me?_ that Kibum can’t help smiling back. Then, quicker than he can anticipate, Taemin’s arms are wrapped around his torso. Kibum is shocked, at first, but Taemin makes no other move and his breathing evens out even as his arms remain locked in position, and he goes back to sleep with his face pressed against Kibum’s shoulder. Kibum stays awake, disconcerted. It has been so long since he was held like this that he’s forgotten what it feels like.

 

Kibum doesn’t know whether he wants to remember.

 


	10. Act 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 10 warnings: none at all.

**Act 10, Scene 1**

 

Jinki calls as they are packing. Taemin hands him the phone without even trying to see the caller ID, and his incuriousity about the call doesn’t bother Kibum because he has learnt through painful experience that Taemin pays about as much attention to his surroundings as he does to foreign politics.

 

Jinki wants to know what Kibum’s plans are for tomorrow.

 

“I told you, I’m not taking any jobs at the moment.”

 

“I know. I’m asking you as your friend, not your employer. I don’t want you to be alone on that day.”

 

And now Kibum finally knows what it is Jinki is talking about, he feels sick to ever have forgotten. “I have my own plans, hyung.”

 

“Kibum-”

 

He hangs up, feeling strangely disoriented. How could he have forgotten?

 

**Act 10, Scene 2**

 

They do not check out after all. His plans of making it at least halfway to Busan are abandoned in favour of staying put until the end of tomorrow.

 

For the first time, Taemin’s presence is a burden. He needs to get out, needs to go places, and most of all, he needs to be alone. He can’t take Taemin with him and he can’t leave him here and it is infuriating.

 

So he does the next best thing. He takes Taemin to Alta Rica; it is a seedy part of town, but he needs an anchor at the moment and that bar is the closest thing to home that he has. Woohyun greets Kibum with his usual order, even though it has been months since he was last here, and a tequila shot. It is Woohyun’s way of remembering, Kibum knows, and as he goes through the ritual with the lime and salt, it almost feels like he is lighting joss sticks at the Buddhist temple at Pagyesa.

 

Alta Rica is practically deserted in the morning and Kibum takes his drink and Taemin into a booth at the back. From here, he can see everyone that walks in the door, and has a good view of unisex bathroom as well.

 

“Here,” he says to Taemin, holding his phone out “take this and be quiet. I don’t want to hear a single sound from you for the rest of the day.”

 

Taemin must have sensed the dangerous change in his mood, because he accepts the phone and sinks low into his seat.

 

Kibum drinks. He doesn’t stop to think; doesn’t reflect. He drinks rum and coke, whiskey, vodka and soju until he can’t feel his own fingers anymore.

 

It isn’t enough. It’s never enough.

 

**Act 10, Scene 3**

 

How he takes Taemin back to the hotel without killing either of them is only something Kibum can guess at. He crawls into his undisturbed bed.

 

“Yah, Taeminnie,” he says slowly, enunciating each syllable.

 

“Yes, hyung?”

 

“You promised not to run when I was sleeping. Why should I trust you? I don’t even know you.”

 

Something shifts in Taemin’s face. He picks up the discarded handcuffs from last night, locks one end around his wrist and the other to the bed. He shakes his trapped hand at Kibum. “Is this enough for you?”

 

Kibum should feel guilty or embarrassed or something other than this nothingness, but nothing works like it should anymore.


	11. Act 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 11 warnings: character death

**Act 11, Scene 1**

_“Pabo, pabo. What am I doing with you?”_

_His companion only laughs._

_“You like it. You can’t take your eyes off it.”_

_It’s true that he can’t take his eyes off the tri-coloured mess that is his boyfriend’s hair, but it is not because he likes it._

_“And besides, compared to your half-shaven head, this is nothing.”_

_“Hyung, the haircuts were supposed to reflect our escape from this back-end of nowhere. This haircut” he points to his own head “says exactly that – this is the new me, I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks and you better stay the fuck out of my way. Your haircut, on the other hand, says that you flipped through a 2 year old idol mag and picked the hairstyle of the guy you secretly want to shag.”_

_Jonghyun’s hand leaves the steering wheel and comes up to stroke the short bleached hairs on the shaven side of his head._

_“Yeah, you’re daring. You always have been. I…did we really have to run away like this?”_

_Kibum catches Jonghyun’s hand – large and wiry, and yet so fragile – and keeps it pressed against the side of his face. “If anyone catches us, I’ll just say that Jonghyunie-hyung kidnapped me. No one who knows me will believe that I – me of all people – will run away with someone who dyes their hair three colours.”_

_“Seriously, Kibum…”_

_He presses a kiss against Jonghyun’s knuckles. “This is what we’ve been dreaming of for years. If we stay there, if we give in to what everybody tells us and settle for nine-to-five jobs at our fathers’ companies, we’ll be miserable. Sure, two years from now, we’ll still be seeing each other pretty much every day. We might even be able to share a flat without people talking behind our backs. Life won’t seem so bad. In five years, when we’re promoted to management level and our business trips don’t sync no matter how hard we try, we’ll see less and less of each other. People will try to introduce us to this nice girl they know, and it will become more and more difficult to make excuses not to. In ten years…”_

_Kibum pauses. Jonghyun turns to look at him, those dark eyes wide with curiosity and fear and something else he can’t identify._

_“In ten years, you’ll be married. You’ll have a dog and maybe a child, and although you’ll never desire your wife the way you desire me, you’ll be content. And in ten years, I…I would have killed myself.”_

_Jonghyun blinks, and returns his attention to the road. He looks shaken. “Key, that’s not funny.”_

_“And you know what the worst part would be, Jjongie?”_

_“What?”_

_“We’ll be just like everyone else. Nothing special. Mediocre.”_

_“I don’t think we’ve ever had a mediocre day in our lives.”_

_“You and me, we’re destined for something bigger. This SM audition is just the starting point. In a couple of years, people will be screaming our names in packed stadiums. We’ll live like there’s no tomorrow. We’ll take over the world.” Kibum laces his fingers with Jonghyun’s. “Together, or not at all.”_

_This time, it is Jonghyun who presses a kiss to his hand._

_“But I haven’t the faintest idea how we’re going to do all that with your stupid yellow hair standing in the way!”_

_Jonghyun laughs and leans in to capture his lips, and Kibum offers himself willingly, high on youth and freedom. Jonghyun’s angular face, that face which he has come to love more than life itself, is framed in a brilliant white light. In that moment, he tastes immortality._

_And that is when the 18-wheeler slams into their car._

**Act 11, Scene 2**

“Key-hyung! KEY!”

 

He comes to with a jolt; Taemin’s yells reverberate inside his already throbbing head and sunlight blinds his eyes. He’s hungover, nauseous, in pain. He hasn’t dreamt of Jonghyun in years.  

 

“Key-hyung.”

 

This time, Kibum has no patience. “What the fuck do you want from me?”

 

Taemin falls silent again, like he always does. Then he says “You were crying.”

 

“What?” The sunlight is too bright, and he squints away from it. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have anything to cry about.”

 

“You cry every night.”

 

Fear spikes in his heart. “Have you gone mad? I just told you that I don’t cry.”

 

“Who is Jonghyun?”

 

And just like that, his nightmares bleed over into reality. “How…”

 

“You call for him. Jonghyun, Jjong, Jjongie, pabo, yeobo, Jonghyunie – they’re all the same person, aren’t they?”

 

Having his endearments for Jonghyun thrown in his face makes something snap within Kibum. He pulls himself out of bed, ignoring the way his stomach rolls at the movement, and checks that his gun, wallet and phone are on his person. It takes so much effort to keep himself upright and not-puking that everything else falls away; he doesn’t hear what Taemin says, if he says anything at all, when he pulls the door shut behind him. 


	12. Act 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 12 warnings: character death, slight gore

**Act 12, Scene 1**

The temple at Pagyesa is exactly as he remembers it – silent, ancient and tranquil. Jonghyun was the one who first brought him here, despite the fact that he was an atheist; one of the many contradictions that made up the man _boy, really_ that he loved.

 

Kibum drags his heavy feet and throbbing head up the steps, passing by the main hall in favour of the gardens in the back. It is summer and there should be tourists here, but for some reason he is alone. He finds the old Oriental arbor tree that they used to sit under whenever Jonghyun was feeling overwhelmed and collapses under it.

 

It has been a long time since he felt the other’s loss so keenly.

 

“Remember me?” he asks the tree. “I don’t think you’d recognise me anymore. I don’t think you’d love me anymore, if you saw who I am.”

 

He’s drunk and rambling and he knows it, but Kibum needs to talk to someone and this damn tree is the only thing around here who knows him from before.

 

“So I’ve come to say goodbye. So long, and thanks for all the fish,” he laughs, because Jonghyun never understood his pop culture references. “Pabo, talking to a tree.”

 

**Act 12, Scene 2**

 

Drinking and driving is not a good choice. Crying and driving is not a good choice.

 

Kibum drinks and weeps and drives his car into a tree.

 

What poetic justice, he thinks, before closing his eyes. At least Taemin will live now.

 

**Act 12, Scene 3**

 

His head is ringing. There is an uncomfortable pressure on his chest and he’s warm and sticky everywhere.

 

_Still alive, then?_

 

The ringing gets louder, and finally he makes out that there is a voice speaking to him. There is a branch pushing through the driver’s side window, and it digs into his side. On the passenger side some person is knocking the window and tugging futilely at the door, which is irreparably dented.

 

Slowly, he realises that he recognises that haircut. And the t-shirt, which he chose.

 

Taemin.

 

The windshield is a spiderweb bent inwards, held together only because of the shatterproof tempering. As he watches, Taemin moves from the passenger side window to climb onto the bonnet of the car. When Taemin meets his eyes, he can see shock in the younger’s face.

 

And then he blacks out again.

 

**Act 12, Scene 4**

 

_The car is totalled, that much he can tell. He doesn’t care about the car. Jonghyun’s eyes are panicked, and Kibum takes a while to make out what he is saying._

 

_“I can’t feel my legs,” he cries, over and over. “I…how am I going to…Kibum.”_

_And he can see from where he’s sitting how Jonghyun’s legs are trapped between the dash and crushed door. His blue jeans are drenched in blood and there is a shard of bone poking out at his ankle. It makes Kibum sick, but he cannot throw up. He cannot move. He looks down to see that the dashboard in front of him has been crushed inwards, and his body is trapped underneath it._

_“Jjongie,” he says._

_“Key?” Jonghyun’s voice cracks a bit, and he coughs. Blood trickles down his lips. As Kibum watches helplessly, Jonghyun leans on the steering wheel, and turns to face him. His eyes are dull._

_“Jjong,” he sobs, “Yah, you stupid dinosaur. Pabo-ji.”_

_Jonghyun blinks once, twice._

_“Yeobo.”_

_But he’s gone, and Kibum is alone in a wreck of a car with the shards of his hopes and dreams scattered across him and the dead body that was once the love of his life._

**Act 12, Scene 5**

 

“KEY!”

 

Taemin’s desperate scream drags him back to reality. He’s slumped forward in his seat, held in place only by the seatbelt. There is broken glass everywhere. He looks up to see that Taemin leaning through the windscreen, which he must have smashed, to speak to him.

 

“Key-hyung,” he says. “Are you alright?”

 

Kibum feels a laugh bubble up in him. He’s so far from alright that he doesn’t even know what alright looks like. “It should have been me,” he croaks, tasting blood on his lips.

 

“Hyung, what are you-”

 

“It should have been me!” he yells. “I held his hand, I distracted him from driving, I made us run away, it was all me! I should have died, not him.”

 

Taemin looks scared. Kibum is tired, bone tired, so he slumps onto the steering wheel like Jonghyun did three years ago. “Leave, Taemin. My back is turned. Run away.”

 

A shadow falls over him. Taemin has climbed into the car, and his long hair tickles the side of Kibum’s face as his hands fumble with the seatbelt.

 

“No, you had to live. You had to live because if it had been anybody else, they would have shot me on my doorstep and I would never have lived the best week of my life.” He manages to free the latch, and moves the belt away from Kibum’s body; it becomes a little easier to breathe. “You had to live because nobody else would have promised to take some stupid kid to Dadohaehaesang, and you haven’t yet, so you cannot...cannot-” 

 

“Tae,” Kibum says, because Taemin is now running his hands over Kibum’s side like he knows how to look for damage _kindness hurts, because he doesn’t deserve any_ , and because there some truth in what he said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

 

Taemin wraps his arms under Kibum’s and loops them around him, so that they are almost chest to chest, and begins to pull him out of the car. It won’t work, Kibum knows, because he’s taller and heavier than Taemin, so he helps by bracing his knees against the dash for leverage. Shards of glass rain down around them as they worm through the broken windscreen; Kibum still doesn’t really want to be rescued, but Taemin’s will is a force he has no strength to resist.

 

Then they’re both on the ground by the side of the road and Kibum can finally breathe. From here, he can see the car; can see the way it is wrapped around the tree trunk like a lover. He’s sticky everywhere, his skin stained with blood, sweat and tears. The setting sun colours the sky purple, Taemin’s hand is fisted in his shirt, and, somewhere in the back of his mind, Kibum thinks it is a scene worth painting. 


	13. Act 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 13 warnings: Sex? Not especially explicit, but graphic enough to warrant a warning, I guess.

**Act 13, Scene 1**

 

Time passes in a sort of haze after that. He remembers bits and pieces of Taemin taking him back to the hotel; limping up the lonely road together, Pagyesa’s roof winking at them from a distance and the disapproving glare of the counter clerk when Taemin fishes cash from his pockets to pay for another night. 

 

Then they’re back in the room and he’s lying in bed. Taemin asks him a few things, he thinks, but he cannot focus long enough to make out what he’s saying. Nevertheless, he finds the strength to specify that Taemin is, under no circumstances up to and including death, to take him to the hospital.

 

After a while, he wakes up to the feeling of cool glass against his lips. Taemin tells him he asked for water, but he doesn’t remember it.

 

Sometime later, he finds himself looking at stains his dirty hands leave on the bed. Someone is going to have a tough time cleaning out the sheets tomorrow, he thinks.

 

**Act 13, Scene 2**

 

The lights are on. Kibum blinks against the harsh fluorescent glare and resists the urge to try to sit up. He doesn’t how much time has passed, but at least he feels in touch with the world, and himself, again.

 

The first thing he sees is Taemin – or rather, the ugly gash on Taemin’s right shoulder – as he sleeps on the floor beside his bed. Without remembering, he knows exactly how Taemin acquired that cut. The thought of this sweet, beautiful boy slicing himself open on the broken glass of the windscreen as he rescued his captor and would-be executioner, makes his heart ache with something he cannot identify.

 

“Tae-” his voice is little more than a hoarse croak. He swallows before trying again. “Taemin.”

 

The younger wakes abruptly and pulls himself up at the side of the bed.

 

“Key-hyung? Are you awake?”

 

“Yes. What about your shoulder? Did you do anything for it?”

 

Taemin pulls up the strap of his tank top and peers under. “It’s fine. I washed it and put some antiseptic on, and it looks alright, I think.”

 

“Come here.” He pulls Taemin’s top halfway down his shoulder, and he knows instantly that something is wrong. Taemin is hot to the touch. He checks the gash, but apart from being raw and pinched, it doesn’t look infected. It should have been stitched, but it has already begun healing and it’s not like he can take Taemin to a doctor anyway. Irked, he lays a hand on Taemin’s forehead.

 

“You’ve got a fever.”

 

Taemin nods.

 

“Did you take anything for it?”

 

Taemin shakes his head.

 

“Oy, what’s wrong with you? Have you taken a vow of silence or something?”

 

Taemin shakes his head again and wriggles out of his grasp.

 

“Taeminnie?” The boy doesn’t answer at all, but sits on the floor and hides his face in his knees. Kibum bends over the edge of the bed and runs a hand through his messy, sweaty hair. “Are you feeling sick? Does your shoulder hurt?”

 

“You looked-” Taemin starts, but changes his sentence halfway. “I…were you trying to kill yourself?”

 

He’s not surprised that Taemin got that impression. “I shouldn’t have been driving in that condition, and I didn’t care, but I wasn’t actually trying. I wouldn’t.”

 

“You loved him, right? And…and he died.”

 

There is a tightening at his chest at the mention of Jonghyun, but he’s so drained that it doesn’t even register as pain anymore. “Yes.”

 

“You didn’t know you were dreaming about him?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“If-” there is a catch in Taemin’s voice “if I hadn’t said anything earlier, you wouldn’t have known. And you wouldn’t have been upset, you wouldn’t have left and you wouldn’t have crashed the car. I didn’t mean to upset you, Key-hyung. You’ve been very good to me, and I should be more grateful.”

 

Kibum is stunned into silence. “Come here,” he finally demands, tugging a reluctant Taemin around to face him. “Here.”

 

Taemin obeys in the end, and moves closer to the edge of the bed.

 

“This is not your fault. I’m supposed to be the responsible adult, so I should have known better than to drink and drive. That crash was entirely my fault.”

 

And Taemin is looking up at him with such worry, and such affection, in his eyes that Kibum can’t up keep the charade of being almighty and unaffected any longer. “The truth is that I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m nineteen years old, Taemin. I know I look and act a lot older, and a lot of the time I feel a lot older, but I’m just…I’m running. I’ve spent the past three years running away from everything.”

 

It takes a few breaths before he can continue. “My parents don’t even know if I’m alive. I miss them, but if I never see them then I’ll never have to face the fact that they’ll disown me – for being gay, for being a murderer, for wanting to be something other than the dutiful son an only child should be.”

 

“I’ve tried so hard to leave behind anything that reminds me of Jjong that I can’t recognise myself anymore, and sometimes even that is not enough.”

 

“So,” he looks Taemin in the eyes again “I have always known that I would die horribly, because I’ve been living on borrowed time since then. You saved me today and you bought me some more time, so don’t apologise to me.”    

 

He expects Taemin to be horrified. He expects Taemin to lose whatever respect he had for him, and to be disgusted at the way he’s forsaken his dignity. What he doesn’t expect is for Taemin to reach up and wipe the tears from his cheeks. That simple gesture, so brutal in its kindness, breaks Kibum. He brushes Taemin’s hand away and curls up on the bed; his hardened heart an open wound once more. It might feel better if he could weep, if he could rail at the heavens and wail like he has seen his mother do at his grandmother’s funeral, but he cannot.

 

The bed dips as Taemin climbs on uninvited, and then the younger is sitting cross-legged beside him and patting the back of his shoulder as if he were actually crying.

 

“I’m sorry you lost Jonghyun, Key-hyung,” Taemin says. “I wish I knew how to make you happy again.”

 

You shouldn’t be wasting wishes on someone who’s going to kill you, Kibum thinks of saying _give Kibum a cross and he’ll happily nail himself to it_. Instead, he pulls Taemin into his arms. “Thank you, aegy.”

 

Taemin lets Kibum hold him, but after a while he can feel the younger boy start to shift impatiently. Taemin was never one for sitting still, not when he could fidget, bounce his feet, damage something or knock something over. He should probably be glad that Taemin hadn’t elbowed him in the ribs or poked his eyes out in his attempt to offer him comfort. Kibum releases him from his arms and, on impulse, kisses the top of his head.

 

That is when Taemin presses his lips to Kibum’s, ever so softly. He is slightly surprised, but he closes his eyes anyway and relishes the way Taemin’s lips keep him firmly lodged in the present. After what feels like too many heartbeats, Taemin pulls away. He touches a fingertip to Kibum’s nose and when Kibum lets him, he leans in for another kiss.

 

It is only when he feels Taemin’s tongue brush over his closed lips that it occurs to Kibum that he has to stop this. Taemin is far too young and afflicted with Stockholm Syndrome and a fever, and he needs to make sure he doesn’t take advantage of that.  

 

He draws back. “What are you doing?”

 

Taemin traces a finger along his collarbone; the touch makes his hair stand on end. “Don’t you like it? I’ve seen the way you look at me when I dance. I know you want me.”

 

He catches Taemin’s hand, holds it still. “That’s not the point, aegy. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that. What matters is-”

 

“I want you, Key-hyung.” Taemin leans in despite having his hand trapped. His breath ghosts over Kibum’s lips. “I want you to be mine.”

 

And then, because Kibum has never been able to say no to Taemin, he releases the hand in his grasp and lets his eyes flutter shut as Taemin kisses him. When he feels Taemin’s tongue lap at his lips again, he lets him in.

**Act 13, Scene 3**

 

The sex feels like it is happening to someone else. He’s not entirely there _concussion, he thinks, before his mind goes blank again_ and Taemin’s eyes are glazed over in fever so that he seems to be looking through Kibum instead of at him.

 

Taemin, for all that this was his idea in the beginning, is passive and unsure once their clothes come off. His eyes narrow when Kibum’s torso is revealed – it is a patchwork of bruises and scrapes. Here is the mark where the seatbelt dug into his flesh and saved his life; there is the mark from where the branch impacted into his side.

 

Kibum takes the lead, then, and pushes him down onto the bed. He runs his hands down Taemin’s lithe form, feeling him shudder, and sucks an almost-hickey into his pulse point until Taemin gets impatient and rolls his hips against Kibum’s. He tastes Taemin – his little brown nipples, the beads of sweat that collect around his belly button, the sharp joints of his hips and the leaking head of his erection – and touches whatever skin he can find _be gentle, be gentle, be gentle_ , keen to show Taemin that sex can be slow and sensual instead of just animalistic fucking. There is a chaffed ring around one of his wrists that Kibum can’t determine the provenance of, but he kisses that too; little butterfly kisses that quicken the pulse underneath his lips. Taemin slowly begins imitating his actions, and he finds himself caught by surprise when the younger leaves a not-particularly-gentle hickey under his jawline.

 

When he runs his hand over the gentle slope of Taemin’s cheekbones, so different from his own sharp features, Taemin takes the opportunity to catch his fingers with his teeth. Slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on Kibum, he sucks the fingers into his mouth and swirls his tongue around them. Kibum thinks he will faint from arousal; from the way the movement of Taemin’s tongue makes his cock twitch.

 

His fingers emerge from those pretty lips with a pop, and then Taemin is rolling over, pushing his arse against Kibum’s thighs with his characteristic impatience. Kibum lets both stew in their arousal for a moment – the wound on Taemin’s shoulder demands his attention – and leans forward to lightly run a finger down the still unscabbed cut. On a whim, he licks a spot of dried blood, and is rewarded with a stifled moan.   

 

It drives him, against all logic, to carry on licking at the wound like a cat cleaning a kitten _he’s finally lost his mind, gone crazy, this is sick_ to a soundtrack of Taemin’s pleasure-noises. It tastes of antiseptic and copper and sweat, and under his ministrations, fresh blood rises to the surface. Kibum laps at it until his mouth tastes like keys, and then leans over Taemin’s shoulder to share the taste with him. As the younger hungrily explores his mouth, he finally brings his spit-slicked fingers to his entrance. Taemin accepts one finger easily, and makes no vocal complaint about the second despite tensing slightly. Kibum takes his time to prepare him and makes sure that he knows exactly where that spot _the one that makes Taemin mewl so prettily_ is, so that he can find it again later.

 

“Are you sure about this?” he asks as he positions himself. “Anytime it hurts, anytime you want to stop, you know you can tell me, right?”

 

Taemin just nods violently, apparently beyond speech now, so Kibum holds his hips steady and slowly pushes in. By the time he’s all in, Taemin is quivering like a violin string wound too tight. His arms shake with the effort of holding his body up and he breaks out in cold sweat, but he still doesn’t make a sound. It has been so long since Kibum has taken someone like this that he’s also shaking with the effort of holding back, but this is about Taemin, not him. He leans forward, slips an arm around Taemin’s midriff and holds him, taking half of his weight.

 

“Breathe,” he whispers, as much to himself as to Taemin.

 

When he feels the body underneath him relax, Kibum starts rolling his hips in slow, circular movements that he knows hurt less. After a while, Taemin pushes back, arching his back and spreading his legs wider, and Kibum begins to move in earnest.

 

He loses track of time. All he knows is the body underneath him, the tightness that takes his breath away and the perfection of having fingers laced through his own. When that familiar heat starts to pool in his stomach, he frees one of his hands and grips the head of Taemin’s erection, thumbing the slit. The sudden stimulation makes him buck backwards, impaling himself deeper on Kibum’s length. Taemin rocks back and forth between the two pleasures, head thrown back in a soundless moan, and comes. Kibum finds his own release soon after. 


	14. Act 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 14 warnings: none.

**Act 14, Scene 1**

 

Pain.

 

Hunger.

 

Kibum wakes up feeling every last bit of the stupid choices he has made over the past couple of days.

 

But when opens his eyes to see Taemin asleep in the crook of his arm, he forgets everything else. The cut on Taemin’s shoulder has scabbed and his temperature is somewhat normal, and he looks so beautiful just lying there that Kibum wants to crawl away into a sewer for using him the way he did last night. 

 

“Yah, Taeminnie,” he calls, tapping the boy’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

 

Taemin blinks into wakefulness, but closes his eyes against the sun’s brightness. “I love you,” he slurs, nuzzling Kibum’s shoulder.

 

His heart stops. “Stockholm Syndrome,” he finally says. “And oxytocin.”

 

“Hmmmm?”

 

“It’s not love, it’s Stockholm Syndrome and oxytocin. Stockholm Syndrome is this condition in which hostages-”

 

“I know what Stockholm Syndrome is. What is that oxy-thing?” Taemin talks into his shoulder, and Kibum resists the urge to push him off.

 

“Oxytocin is a chemical which is produced by the body after sex. It’s called the ‘love hormone’ because it makes you feel happy and high and all those things you associate with love while it’s in your system.” He takes a breath. “So you’re not in love with me, you’re just full of cuddle hormones that make you think that.”

 

“Okay, hyung.” Taemin kisses his bare shoulder, right over the bruise caused by the seatbelt, and settles in to sleep some more.

 

You shouldn’t love me, Kibum thinks. You shouldn’t love the person who is cruel enough to let you have a taste of life before he takes it away from you.   

 

  **Act 14, Scene 2**

 

Sashimi is not an appropriate brunch, nor is the selection they are offered very good, but it satisfies Kibum’s craving for something light and unsavoury. Taemin devours everything that lands on his plate like he hasn’t eaten in days _he hasn’t, because Kibum is a neglectful guardian_ so Kibum orders a bowl of udon just for him.

 

And then, because he hasn’t eaten in far too long, Taemin’s stomach rebels and he throws up violently as they’re packing to leave. Kibum calls the reception to book them in for another nightbefore he goes into the bathroom to become a poor imitation of Florence Nightingale.

 

In the time that it takes for the vomiting gives way to dry heaves, Taemin’s fever returns in full force. He lies on the floor next to the toilet, reluctant to leave even though there is nothing left for him to bring up. Kibum feels ashamed, and he offers his apologies by fetching water and medicine and making comforting sounds and telling Taemin all the dirty jokes he can recall. He sponges Taemin’s forehead with a cold towel and coaxes him into eating the crackers he bullied out of the receptionist, hoping to appease the guilt gnawing away at his insides.

 

When Taemin falls asleep on the bathroom floor, Kibum brings in a pillow and blanket for him and sits in vigil over the sick boy. His chest and back feel like they’re on fire, but he fights the temptation to take the painkillers that he keeps in his backpack. If Taemin is in pain _he never cried, never complained_ , it is only fair that he suffers too; if for nothing else than as a reminder to himself not to be so careless in the future.

 

**Act 14, Scene 3**

 

He remembers to call Jinki. Jinki is worried, because someone reported the crashed car to the police and the police have contacted Jinki.

 

“I’m fine,” he white-lies. “The crash wasn’t as bad as they made it sound and I made it out okay. Just a couple of bumps and bruises, don’t worry.”

 

“I always worry about you.”

 

“Well, don’t. I’m fine. I’ll pay for the car out of my next cheque.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it? The crash…I mean, the other crash? Or we could talk about this one, too-”

 

“Hyung,” Kibum cuts him off before things become awkward. “It’s fine. I need a new car, though.”

 

Jinki agrees to the new car, just like Kibum knew he would. There are very few people in the world who can say no to Kibum.

 

**Act 14, Scene 4**

Finally, on the fourth day after they first checked in, Kibum and Taemin leave. Taemin has recovered enough to start being a minor nuisance again, taking over his phone and spilling things and leaving Kibum to carry all the bags down, and although Kibum is still not feeling entirely alright, he keeps it to himself.

 

One of Kibum’s contacts has managed to scrounge up a fourth generation Hyundai Sonata for him; Kibum makes Taemin wear a hoodie and asks him to wait on the corner outside the mechanic’s workshop while he fetches the car. He’s no longer afraid of Taemin running away. 

 

 He pulls up on Taemin’s corner and the latter throws himself into the passenger seat, practically bursting with happiness.

 

“What?”

 

“This car. I wanted to get one when I started working.” He buckles himself in and strokes the dashboard lovingly. “It looks so fluid, doesn’t it?”

 

Kibum nods in agreement. He’s not much of a car person, but he can appreciate the aesthetic of their new car. Taemin reaches over to run his fingers over the part of the seatbelt strapped over Kibum’s chest. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

 

It does _but not as much as knowing that Taemin had plans for his future, or that he now refers to those plans in the past tense_. “It’s fine.”

 

“So where’s our next stop?”

 

Kibum smiles. “Busan.” 


	15. Act 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 15 warnings: gore, minor violence

**Act 15, Scene 1**

 

By the time they reach Busan and check into a budget hotel just off Gwangalli, Kibum is ready to roll over dead. He flops onto the mercifully comfortable bed and closes his eyes for a moment, willing the ache in his chest and back to fade. Taemin sits down next to him with a bounce _ouch_ and drops his poor, abused phone on the nightstand.

 

“Key-hyung?”

 

Kibum pretends not to have heard him.

 

“Key-hyung.” A finger prods his already sensitive chest.

 

“YAH! Can’t you sit quietly for a moment?”

 

“Can I have some money for the vending machine downstairs?”

 

Kibum should say no. Giving a hostage enough money to make a public phone call and letting him loose without supervision is the height of insanity. What he ends up saying is “There’s some change in the smallest pocket of my backpack. Take that.”

 

“Thanks hyung!” Taemin bounces off the bed _ouch again_ and a moment later, the door slams.

 

His instinct doesn’t let him rest until he hears the door open and Taemin’s unmistakeable presence fills the room. He hears footsteps approach his bed and begins a countdown in his head.

 

One, two…

 

Bounce. “Key-hyung!”

 

This time, Kibum opens his eyes. “What?”

 

Taemin holds up a bag of ice, which he’s half-wrapped in one of his t-shirts, in response, and reaches over to pull the corner of his t-shirt up. “Can I?”

 

May I, Kibum thinks, but he cannot say anything because of the lump in his throat. Taemin takes his lack of protest as acquiescence and sets the makeshift pack against his skin. The ice burns when it touches his inflamed flesh, but the pain soon numbs. Taemin tries to be gentle, but his hands are the hands of destruction, and after a while Kibum takes over.  

 

After the ice thaws into water, they watch Royal Villa and this week’s Inkigayo on the TV from Kibum’s bed. Neither of them are in any condition to dance, so Kibum makes Taemin buy chips and seaweed and chocolate from his wonderful vending machine and they make a complete mess by eating everything on the bed.  

 

Taemin laughs at his own unfunny jokes and flips between channels and radiates joy.

 

Kibum feels trapped.

**Act 15, Scene 2**

When the blazing afternoon sun fades into a dull orangey glow, they take a walk down the main streets of Gwangan-dong. The place is crowded with both tourists and locals, all of them young and attractive; Kibum is glad for the anonymity offered by the crowd.

 

Taemin turns his nose up at the offer of more sashimi, despite the fact that this is the region’s specialty, so they go to some generic burger chain instead. Taemin inhales his food while Kibum picks at his and thinks about the thing that has been troubling him since Pagyesa.  

 

“How did you find me?”

 

“What?”

 

“On the day…that day, how did you find me?”

 

Taemin shrugs, looking discomfited. Kibum is excellent at reading people, but he does not have to be to tell that the younger is lying. “Taemin.”

 

“In the bar, when you gave me your phone, I downloaded a GPS tracking app into your phone.”

 

It takes a while for Kibum to wrap his mind around the statement. When he does, it takes all of his self-control not to start yelling. He schools his expression into neutrality and gestures for Taemin to continue.

 

“So when you left, and you didn’t come back for ages, I tracked you.”

 

“Don’t you need another phone to use the app? Or a computer?”

 

“I borrowed a phone from an ahjumma I saw on our floor. The app showed that you were in Pagyesa, and you didn’t move for five minutes, so I thought you weren’t going to go anywhere else. She lent me some money for a cab too, because I lied and said that you had taken my wallet and phone as a prank.”

 

“Wait, how did you even get to that ahjumma? I thought you handcuffed yourself to the bed?”

 

“I got loose.” Kibum then remembers the chaffed skin around his wrist; the marks he’d kissed in their misguided coupling.

 

“But when I got to Pagyesa, you weren’t there. I borrowed a phone from a monk, yeah, I know, even monks have phones these days, and I saw you were on the road somewhere. I walked down and I found your car.”

 

Taemin twirls a fry through ketchup and eats it slowly. He’s not really smiling anymore, Kibum realises, as if he knows he’s done something wrong.

 

He should be angry because it isn’t just him that the police could have traced. He can deal with law enforcement, but if he endangers his professional colleagues, their wrath will not be so easy to escape. He wants to be angry. Yet, he isn’t. 

 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

 

It’s a phrase his grandmother used to say to him all the time. He means it fondly. Taemin, though, takes it as some sort of reprimand. His smile flags a bit, and even though they walk around town and eat ice-cream that Kibum buys from Baskin Robbins, it doesn’t really return. Kibum tells himself that it’s a good thing to let him reflect on his stupidity for a while.

 

**Act 15, Scene 3**

 

This is the sixth time Kibum has seen the gleaming lights of the Diamond Brige. He’s seen it with his family, once before his grandmother’s death and once after, with Jjong and on his own after assignments. He’s never understood the hype, but he supposes watching life bustle by has a meditative effect.

 

Taemin doesn’t seem to appreciate the view either. He paces and hums to himself and eventually sits down by Kibum’s feet.

 

Kibum doesn’t ask him why he downloaded the app. He doesn’t want to know.

**Act 15, Scene 4**

 

_Petrichor._

_The air is humid. His skin prickles._

_Why is he here? He can’t remember. He head hurts – too much to drink, as usual._

_There are too many people around him, buzzing, excited shapes that ignore him and stand in his way. He feels lost, trapped._

_Something catches his elbow. Jinki._

 

_Kibum lets Jinki pull him wherever the older wants. He knows Jinki is talking to him, but he can’t make out much over the white noise inside his head. Jinki leads him towards the edge of a large lake, and his feet scrabble for purchase in the loose gravel._

_Then he’s kneeling down, by a tarp. Jonghyun’s face comes into his sight._

_Jonghyun._

 

_Kibum misses him so much._

_His face is pale and bloodied, the way it was that night.  Maybe it is still that night; his sense of timing is a bit shit._

_“Key-ah,” Jonghyun coughs out, reaching out a hand for him._

_Kibum laces his fingers with Jonghyun’s and kisses his knuckles reverently. He wants to say something, but he has no words. Jonghyun reaches out to cup his face and Kibum leans into the touch like a man starved. He looks down and for a moment, doesn’t really comprehend what he is seeing._

 

_Where Jonghyun’s torso and lower body should be, there is nothing. His body ends just under his arms in a bloody, mangled pulp. A bit of backbone juts out, pinkish against the ghastly red mess._

_Fingers paw at his face. The thing – Jonghyun – mouths something. He shouldn’t be alive._

_Kibum backs away, falls on his backside in the wet gravel. He nearly faints._

_Or maybe he actually does. He’s looking up now, into Jinki’s sympathetic face. “Deep breaths, Kibum,” his hyung says. “It’s alright. It’s going to be alright.”_

_He tries to sit up – Jjong, he needs to get back to him – but Jinki’s hands on his shoulders keep him pressed down. “It’s okay, Kibum. Just rest. It’ll all be over in a while.”_

 

_Then he looks down at himself, and he’s also-_

 

-in bed, being shaken frantically. There is a scream working its way up his throat and he jams his forearm between his teeth, bites down, because he knows the sound he is about to make will give anyone who hears it _including him_ nightmares.

 

Taemin climbs on top of him and wrenches his arm away; he can hear the younger’s desperate pleas to him to stop, he can hear his own breath coming out in gasps, he can feel his sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging to him, he can taste blood in his mouth and it’s all too much.

 

He doesn’t remember dreaming about Jonghyun every night, but he’s pretty sure that he’s never had this particular dream before. It’s as if his own subconscious is turning against him – he feels like he’s treading water in a tank that’s slowly being filled up, and no matter how hard he tries, he’ll soon drown. He hates it.

 

“Key-hyung?”

 

Taemin looks down at him, with his flawless face and large eyes full of concern. It makes Kibum furious.

 

It doesn’t take much to reverse their positions; he hooks his leg behind Taemin’s knee and flips him, catches his arms as he falls into the bed and then he is the one sitting on top of the younger. Taemin looks surprised at the sudden move, but he doesn’t resist.

 

“What,” he hisses “what more do you want from me?”

 

“You were having-”

 

“A nightmare. I know. Funny, but I didn’t have any before you came along and started asking questions about things that should stay in the past.”

 

“You’re angry,” Taemin says.

 

When Kibum doesn’t reply, he licks his lips and says “You didn’t have nightmares the night we…that night. We could do it again.”

 

Kibum laughs without humour. “That’s an original way of asking for a shag.”

 

Taemin shakes his head. “It’s not…I didn’t mean…” He tries to free his arms from Kibum’s grasp, but the Kibum keeps them pinned to above his head. A small part of him wonders why he’s picking on Taemin of all people, but it’s the first time in days that he’s felt in control of anything, so he ignores the tiny pricking of his conscience. When Kibum has made it clear that he isn’t going to release Taemin, the latter stops struggling. Kibum knows him well enough by now to be able to tell that he’s scared, and not just because of this sudden hostility.

 

“Hyung, then…then it can be my punishment. You don’t have to be gentle, I’m not a glass doll, I won’t break. Just…”

 

“Punishment? What are you talking about?”

 

“You said…you said you didn’t know what to do with me.”

 

The realisation of what Taemin is talking about makes Kibum sit up and let go of Taemin’s hands. His blood has dripped onto the younger’s arm and onto the sheets, leaving dark red stains against the whiteness of both. He feels unclean. Taemin thinks he is cruel enough to rape him as punishment for saving his life _you were this close to beating him for waking you from a nightmare, so maybe he’s not the one who’s mistaken_ and all Kibum wants is to get away from the emotional avalanche this one boy has managed to inflict on him.

 

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he says, sliding off the bed.

 

Taemin reaches out for him. Kibum escapes into the bathroom.   


	16. Act 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 16 warnings: none at all

**Act 16, Scene 1**

 

Unexpectedly, Kibum manages to fall asleep on the cold white tiles of the bathroom, something he only realises when sunlight shines in his face from the vent above the shower stall. There is a wet patch of browning blood on the floor and his arm burns where he’s bitten it, but sleeping on the hard floor seems to have done him some good; his body doesn’t ache with the intensity that it did earlier.

 

Kibum finds himself taking more time than usual with his morning ritual. Before Taemin, he’s never felt at such conflict with himself – between what he knows he needs to do, and what he wants to do. He figures that it is this conflict that is the cause of his nightmares, and wonders whether, when all of this is said and done, he’ll be screaming Taemin’s name in his sleep.

 

**Act 16, Scene 2**

Taemin hasn’t slept.

 

Kibum can see the dark circles under his eyes and the tenseness in his shoulders, and joins the younger where he is sitting cross-legged on his bed.

 

“You didn’t sleep?” he asks.

 

Taemin shakes his head. “Hyung, I…I wanted to apologise. I should have known you didn’t mean what I thought. It’s just…sometimes, I’m a bit stupid and messed-up, and I didn’t mean to imply that you’d be-”

 

“Taeminnie,” Kibum stops his rambling, and brushes his hair out of his face. “I already told you, you have nothing to apologise for. I didn’t mean what I said last night. You are not causing my nightmares. I had no right to hold you down, and I promise I will never do it again.”

 

When Taemin doesn’t respond, just sits there like Kibum’s apology caused him to short-circuit _like the idea of someone respecting his right to say no has never occurred to him_ , Kibum forgets the distance he means to keep between them and pulls him into a hug. “And you are a bit stupid, but you’re my aegy and I adore you anyway.”

 

The smaller boy relaxes in his arms and pushes his face into Kibum’s neck; Kibum feels each of his exhalations as a slight tickle. Taemin settles against Kibum’s body and traces the bite mark on his arm with careful fingers.

 

“Key-hyung, you remembered the dream this time, didn’t you?”

 

“Yes.” It’s a half-truth _the dream_ _he remembers and the dream Taemin is referring to are two entirely different beasts_.

 

Taemin makes a humming sound in acknowledgement. Kibum watches as he lifts his arm and presses a kiss to the newly-washed bite mark. Kibum knows exactly where this is heading and he knows that he has no excuse for allowing it to happen this time, but he cannot bring himself to move. When he doesn’t react, Taemin kitten-licks at the wound. It sends a jolt of arousal coursing through his body.

 

“Is this what I tasted like?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Taemin takes a large, lewd lap of the wound and presses an open-mouthed kiss against Kibum’s lips. Kibum parts his lips and allows him access, and when Taemin’s tongue flicks against his own, he tastes the copper tang of blood.

 

“Is this what I tasted like?” Taemin asks again, his lips still uncomfortably close.

 

“Yes.” Kibum worms his way out of the bed, and pushes a slightly resistant Taemin into lying down. Feeling like he’s playing at being his grandmother, he straightens the sheets and pulls them to cover the slender body that he suddenly longs to claim again. “Now sleep.”

 

When Taemin actually rolls onto his side and curls into his usual sleeping position, Kibum feels the sort of relief he associates with dodging a bullet. He draws the curtains over the windows to allow them some darkness, and sits down on his own bed to watch the TV on mute. He’s just found a show he can vaguely remember – Royal Villa – when Taemin returns to being his restless self.

 

“Key-hyung?”

 

Kibum sinks deeper into his pillows.

 

“Hyuuunggg.”

 

“What?”

 

“Weren’t we going to leave?”

 

“Yes, but check-out is at 12 and we still have a couple of hours until then.”

 

“So we’re only staying to let me sleep?”

 

“Yes. Which, correct me if I’m wrong, you’re not doing.”

 

Taemin throws the covers off and sits up. “Key-hyung, can we spend that time at the beach instead? I’m not tired.”

 

There is a ‘no’ on the tip of Kibum’s tongue, but the naked hope in Taemin’s face makes him swallow it. At Kibum’s nod of assent, he leaps off the bed and throws his arms around him, painfully crushing his still sore body. “You’re the best, Key-hyung.”


	17. Act 17

 

**Act 17, Scene 1**

 

Gwangalli is packed with the usual summer crowd of parents, screaming brats and self-conscious teenagers mingling with foreign tourists, so Kibum drives up to Haeundae. He used to water-ski here when he was younger, and is relieved to find it packed with a different sort of crowd; surfers and extreme sport enthusiasts. He sits down just out the tide’s reach, and watches Taemin wade out into the water until it’s deep enough for him dog-paddle.

 

A group of young boys and girls, most probably university students, invites Taemin to surf with them. Kibum allows it and sits alone in the shade where he can keep an eye on them. He can see some of them glancing over at him a few times, as if wondering why he’s so anti-social, but they make no attempt to come over.

 

It’s the first time he has been alone since the night he took Taemin from his house in Seoul, Kibum realises. He’s always been a solitary sort, and he’s never realised how much he misses having time to himself.

 

_In a day or so, he’ll have all the alone time he wants._

 

The idea strikes fear into his heart; he shakes his head, rids himself of the thought. Until that dreaded time comes, he’ll live in the present.

 

**Act 17, Scene 2**

 

They have lunch at one of the cafes littering the strip of road in front of the beach. Taemin’s nose is sunburnt and his pale skin is reddened and there are scratches on his knees and elbows where he’s scraped them, but he can’t keep his excitement out of his face. He eats heartily and cleans the remains of Kibum’s meal as well. Kibum wants the younger’s cheer to infect him, but whatever happiness he feels is tinged with bitternss.

 

After the plates have been cleared and the bill has been called for, Taemin leans back in his chair and lets out a satisfied sigh. “This was so fun.”

 

Kibum desperately wants to keep the day from ending. As long as they stay here, Dadohaehaesang will continue to be some vague place over the horizon. He leans back too, crosses his legs.

 

“How long has it been since we last danced?”

 

  **Act 17, Scene 3**

 

The clubs of Gwangalli are packed to the rafters with young, attractive people high on their own invincibility. Kibum remembers a time when he was one of them.

 

Taemin chooses to wear his favourite ripped jeans again. Not to be outdone, Kibum wears the skintight faux leather trousers he keeps for when he’s on the prowl and pairs it with a loose fishnet tank top. The club’s bouncer lets them in immediately even though they don’t have ID, his beady little pupils flicking back and forth between them in undisguised admiration as they walk past him.

 

This time, he has different rules for Taemin. No drinks, no visits to the bathroom alone.

 

The selection of music is a mixture of overplayed kpop and American dance music. They dance to every song they practiced to, and a few others that catch their fancy. The crowd parts respectfully before them and their audience grows with each dance. During Hyuna’s Ice-Cream, Taemin grinds up against him and drops to the floor, eyes focused on the people watching them  _attention whore_. Kibum hears a few appreciative whistles when he rolls and snaps his hips in tandem to Kara’s Mister, and even Taemin stops moving for a moment to gawp at him.

 

He leaves Taemin to dance with one of the pretty American girls he’s been eyeing up all night, and takes a seat at the VIP section  _he doesn’t need his name on the list, some people are born to live in the spotlight_ before helping himself to a glass of Moët. A man drops into his couch; tall, skinny but sculpted and sporting cheekbones that rival his own, and with an eye for fashion  _slim-cut trousers rolled to the knees, and is that a Prada shirt?_ He’s exactly Kibum’s type.

 

“You were impressive,” he says.

 

“You’ll need a better opening line than that.”

 

“My name is-”

 

“Not my problem.”

 

The man grins. “Fine. I know a lot of idols, and I’ve seen the best of them dance live, but you made me realise why dance is such an important part of the Kama Sutra.”

 

“You’ve read the Kama Sutra?” His interest is piqued; brainy is the new sexy, after all.

 

“Of course.”

 

Kibum moves closer to him, brushes his knee against the other’s knobbly one. “I've been meaning to get around to it, but I haven't found the time.”

 

“I could show you one or two things, maybe it'll give you a reason to find the time.” The man rises to the easy bait, as expected. He leans in and Kibum feels a shiver of anticipation.

 

That is when Taemin clambers over the back of the couch and squeezes in between them, elbowing Kibum in the process. “Key-hyung, there you are!”

 

Kibum’s conquest looks confused at the interruption, but attempts to be friendly. “You’re the other dancer, right? You two know each other?”

 

Taemin nods, grinning widely.

 

“He’s my dongsaeng,” Kibum lies. “And now that we’ve all been introduced, he’s going to sit quietly in that corner over there.”

 

He never imagines that Taemin will have the guts to contradict him, not when he is so obviously glaring daggers at the younger, but that is what happens.

 

“He’s lying,” Taemin says with a laugh. He puts a hand on Kibum’s thigh and squeezes lightly. “We’re together, and I’m a little underage, so that’s the story he tells everyone. But you’re our friend, right? You won’t tell.”

 

As tall and skinny stutters in confusion, Taemin kisses him. It is a possessive kiss, and they duel for dominance; Kibum grabs Taemin’s shoulders to prevent him from climbing into his lap, and Taemin responds by grinding his hard-on against Kibum’s knee. When they break apart, gasping for air, tall and skinny is gone.

 

“Ah, where did your friend go?” Taemin asks, looking not in the least bit sorry.

 

Kibum thinks he should be angry, but he’s more than a little impressed by Taemin’s guts. “He probably ran away before someone can arrest him for being an accessory to statutory rape.”

 

“Oh,” Taemin licks his kiss-bruised lips, his lack of interest in the other man apparent. “I think I need the bathroom, Key-hyung.”

 

**Act 17, Scene 4**

 

Kibum doesn’t resist when Taemin pulls him into the cubicle as well. It’s the alcohol, he thinks, which makes him so suggestible.

 

“You were saying something about statutory rape, Key-hyung.”

 

“Yes, about how nobody likes to be arrested for it.”

 

“Good thing I’m not underage.” Taemin reaches in for a kiss and Kibum tastes lip gloss on his lips. He must have kissed that girl then.

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

A hand palms at his half-hard erection through his clothes; his iron self-control stops him from bucking into that hand.

 

“Why not? I like it, you obviously like it.”

 

“Taemin, it’s abuse.” He moves Taemin’s hand away. “I know you must have lived through worse, but me sleeping with you isn’t right.”

 

Taemin stops and wraps his arms around Kibum’s neck, pulling him into a hug. “I like you, Key-hyung.” Kibum feels him nuzzle his shoulder. “You’ve never hurt me. You care. No one else…If I’d known you earlier, I…” he stops, seemingly lost for words. “I know I’m not, but let me pretend I’m yours. That I’ve always been.”

 

“Taeminnie.” Kibum feels weak with both lust and sympathy, and his restraint crumbles in the face of Taemin’s trust. He tilts Taemin’s face up, kisses those lips which have become familiar, and Taemin kisses back with a hunger that he would not have thought possible.

 

They fuck in the cramped, wet cubicle; Taemin pressed against the door as Kibum takes him from behind. Kibum’s shoulders are under Taemin’s arms, and the latter stands almost tiptoed, half of his weight braced against the door and the other half supported by Kibum. The door rattles with each movement and Kibum isn’t being as gentle as he should, but Taemin meets each thrust with a roll of his hips and moans like a whore. They are wanton and desperate, and it is the best sex he’s had in a long time.

 

“Hy-hyung,” Taemin whimpers, fingers scrabbling for purchase as Kibum’s cock grazes his sensitive spot. “Oh…”

 

“Say my name.”

 

“Key-hyung.” He gasps then, because Kibum pushes in hard, and breathes “Key, Key…”

 

He rewards Taemin’s compliance by slowly pumping his cock, and the younger starts bucking into his fist, almost keening. Kibum kisses the exposed curve of his shoulder and beings jerking him off in earnest. “Hyung…Key, please…”

 

He comes with Kibum’s name on his lips. Kibum clutches his bony hips and pulls him down, changing the angle to sink in deep as Taemin’s muscles clench around him, and bites down on his lip to keep from crying out as he comes too.

 

He collapses on the closed toilet with Taemin on his lap, the latter boneless and panting. There is semen running down the back of Taemin’s legs, soaking into both of their trousers. Taemin looks thoroughly debauched; his hair is mussed  and his skin is flushed, but his eyes are sparkling  _beautiful, he’s so beautiful_.  

 

“You’re crying,” Taemin says suddenly.

 

Carelessly, Kibum rubs the back of his hand against his cheek. “It’s a reflex action.” Taemin giggles, and he lightly shoves him. “Stop smirking. You’re not that good.”

 

“You’re so weird.”

 

Kibum steals a kiss  _is it stealing if someone willingly gives you something you shouldn’t be taking?_  from Taemin before they pull their clothes up and leave the safety of the cubicle.

 

Tall and skinny walks in just as they are rearranging their appearance in the mirror. Kibum watches as he takes in the sight of Taemin’s sex-hair, Kibum’s split lip and their rumpled clothes, and sees understanding dawn on his face. When Taemin slings an arm around Kibum’s shoulder and blows a farewell kiss to him, though, he waves back with a genuine smile.

 

**Act 17, Scene 5**

 

They don’t drive down to Dadohaehaesang that night after all. Kibum pays a small ransom for a room in a hotel that has seen better days, grateful to be able to find one at the last minute in the summer holidays. There is no air-conditioning, the shower emits only half the amount of water it is supposed to be able to and the sheets are rough, but they are both tired and this is good enough.

 

Kibum is jolted from his sleep by something moving in his bed, and goes from sleep to full alertness immediately. His gun is in his backpack  _when did he become so careless_  and he’s ready to restrain the intruder when he realises that it is Taemin. The younger doesn’t seem to understand how close he came to being placed in a chokehold, and instead wraps himself around Kibum.

 

“Yah, Tae-” he starts, but falls silent when he realises that Taemin’s heart is racing. “Taeminnie? What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” Taemin has him in a death grip, and resists Kibum’s attempts to loosen his arms. The bed is a single and there isn’t enough space for the both of them on it. The red digits on the telephone by the bedside indicate that it is just past three in the morning; he’s barely had an hour of sleep.

 

“You’re going to fall off,” Kibum says, although he knows it is more likely that the one to fall will be him. “And it’s too hot.”

 

“Please let me stay,” Taemin pleads. “Just for tonight.”

 

Because there won’t be a tomorrow night.

 

Taemin doesn’t have to say it for Kibum to understand.

 

He wraps an arm around Taemin’s too thin frame, kisses the top of his head and kicks the blanket off. Taemin shifts uneasily but still clings to him, and Kibum strokes his hair with patience he never knew he had. The younger’s racing heart eventually slows, but neither of them get any sleep that night. 


	18. Act 18

 

**Act 18, Scene 1**

 

Of course he’s considered letting Taemin go.

 

The idea constantly pops up in his head, like weeds in a garden that simply refuse to perish under the onslaught of weedkillers and turfing.

 

Kibum could just let him go; tell him he’s changed his mind and if Taemin wouldn’t mind lying low for a couple of years, that’d be great, thanks, see you someday or maybe not. Taemin could live and Kibum could go on his merry way, killing until he meets his destiny staring down the business end of a gun. 

 

The risk, however, is too great. Taemin would, sooner rather than later, have to turn to a friend or relative to continue to survive, and when he does, when word gets out of Kibum’s betrayal of the triad, Kibum would have a price on his head higher than bin Laden did.

 

Some days, when Taemin is being especially cute, he thinks it is a risk worth taking.

 

But then he remembers the time he had to put down his dog Coco. They were all set to go to the vet’s in the afternoon, and Kibum, not wanting to believe that his beloved pet  _child really, he loved her like a child_ could no longer be saved from the disease that ravaged her liver, had released her into the park not far from where they lived. His parents and grandmother had combed those woods until it became too dark, but they never found Coco.

 

At first, he was happy, for having saved his dog from an unnecessarily early death. But, as time passed, he began to wonder: what would Coco eat? What if it rained? Would she be able to find a warm place to sleep? Was she afraid? Did she miss them? Would she understand that he did this because he loved her, and not because he stopped loving her?

 

Years later, a random book he found in Jonghyun’s house allowed him to understand.

 

_You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed._

 

Taemin is his responsibility, and it is a kinder to kill him quickly and painlessly than it is to just leave him somewhere, struggling to understand why Kibum would take him from his home and abandon him to die alone and afraid. 


	19. Act 19

 

**Act 19, Scene 1**

 

“Wanna drive?”

 

Taemin’s face is an open book; at his offer, Kibum can read delight and surprise in his features.

 

“Really?”

 

“You know the basics of driving right?”

 

“I’ve driven a couple of times before. Taeyang – my cousin – he let me drive his car last summer.”

 

“Well, you can drive until we get on the highway.” He tosses the keys to Taemin. “Try not to get us killed.”

 

**Act 19, Scene 2**

 

It feels different, somehow, after Taemin hands the car back to him. It is almost as if the act of handing the keys over is some sort of acknowledgement that this is the last leg of their time together.

 

Unbidden, memories of their first morning together comes back to Kibum; he can almost see an imprint of Taemin in his pyjamas, huddled in the passenger seat with his lips turned down, over where his Taemin is sitting. Would he have agreed to this in the beginning if he had known things would play out like this? His self-preservation instincts would have led him to pull the trigger right there in the Seo house, but the thought of never having known Taemin is unbearable.

 

“So this cousin Taeyang,” Kibum starts, because he doesn’t want to be trapped in his own morbid imagination any longer, “was he nice?”

 

Taemin shrugs. “He’s a couple of years older than me. He only let me take the car because it was an excuse for him to leave the house to meet his girlfriend. I’ve never spoken all that much to him.”

 

Kibum is about to reply about how he doesn’t really know his own extended family anyway, but Taemin stops him. “Can we not talk about Taeyang?”

 

“Okay.”

 

They don’t talk at all.

 

**Act 19, Scene 3**

 

The park ranger at the parking lot informs Kibum that he can rent camping equipment and stay overnight in one of the designated camping spots or rent a room in one of the massively overpriced hotels or pensions surrounding the park.

 

“What time does it get dark around here?” he asks.

 

“About 7. Maybe a bit later now that it’s summer, but it’ll definitely be pretty dark by 8. Any particular reason for asking?”

 

“We’re going stargazing.” Taemin nods in agreement, although Kibum can see the way him growing paler by the minute.  _No, we’re coming going up into the hills to shoot this pretty young thing here, and now that I’ve told you, park warden-ssi, I’m going to have to kill you too._

 

She smiles. “You’ve timed your trip well. You won’t even need a telescope at this time of the year.”

 

Kibum takes her advice and books a room in a pension which boasts a nightly barbeque and sports equipment for rent, just to be careful, but there really is no question about the fact that they will be camped out in the woods.

 

**Act 19, Scene 4**

 

It rains.

 

They have both just showered and changed into more durable hiking clothes when the skies open up without warning. The rain is light, but it causes a fog to descend on the hills and the hotel staff announce that warnings against hiking have been issued by the authorities. From their room, he can see wardens standing around the perimeter, ready to enforce the warnings. There is no going out, and Kibum is trapped in the small room with an increasingly distressed Taemin. He can tell that the younger is trying to hold himself together, but every now and again his hands tremble and he jumps at the slightest sound.

Kibum longs to reassure him, but what can he say?

 

Things come to a head when Kibum asks for a glass of water while Taemin is pouring one for himself; at the sound of his own name, he startles and drops the glass. It smashes and pieces go flying everywhere, and Taemin looks like he’s going to bolt.

 

“Taemin, wait.” It is a command. Taemin obeys, and Kibum carefully sweeps the shards up with some paper towels. When he’s done clearing the place of broken glass, Taemin wobbles over and sits on the edge of his bed.

 

“Mianhe, Key-hyung,” he says, sounding resigned.

 

It’s not often that Kibum is at a complete loss. He awkwardly lays a hand on Taemin’s shoulder. “You should sleep, aegy. If you tire yourself out, you’re not going to be able to make the hike.”

 

Taemin leans against his waist, and looks up at him with weary eyes. “I can’t sleep. I know it’s raining, but can we go now?”

 

Kibum agrees, and wonders why Taemin asks as if there is any doubt about his answer. He should know by now that Kibum has no power over him.  

 

 


	20. Act 20

 

**Act 20, Scene 1**

 

He has gotten past Mossad agents in his line of work, so Kibum has absolutely no trouble getting past a couple of park wardens, even with Taemin in tow. The fog is dense; he remembers where he last saw the stars, and the path shouldn’t have changed since then, so he takes Taemin’s hand in his own and they set off.

 

**Act 20, Scene 2**

 

The air is humid and heavy. Kibum peels his jacket off, his t-shirt underneath sticks to his skin anyway. The rain has stopped and the hot afternoon sun is out, and the combination of fog and too-bright sunlight is not helping with the hike. The only saving grace the situation presents is that he can now see where they are going. 

 

Turning around to take note of their position, he sees that Taemin has fallen further back than he expected. As Kibum watches, he picks his way up the hill, stumbling every now and again over the uneven ground. He looks exhausted. When he sees Kibum looking down at him, Taemin stops walking and sits down against a tree.

 

Kibum goes to him.

 

“Just five minutes, hyung,” Taemin asks. Kibum waves a hand carelessly as he shrugs his backpack off  _what does five minutes mean, anyway?_   _A mere blip in Kibum’s life, something to be given away without thought, but for Taemin, it’s a large chunk of the time he has left._

 

When Kibum sits next to him, Taemin lies down on the leafy ground and drops his head in his lap. “You’ll get dirty,” Kibum warns, but negates his own warning by shifting and stretching his legs out so that Taemin can rest comfortably.

 

“Why do you choose to kill people?”

 

Kibum doesn’t expect the question at all. He sits in silence for a while, wondering how to sum up 3 years of life and choices into a couple of sentences.

 

“You’re not evil,” Taemin clarifies when he fails to answer. “You seem to be a decent person. You’re smart enough that you could do anything you want to do. So why would you choose to be a murderer?”

 

The word murderer cuts him. He’s used it in relation to himself all the time, but to hear it fall from Taemin’s lips with such hostility makes him feel the way he did when his father first said the word ‘gay’. “Because I’m good at it.”

 

It’s not much of an answer, but Taemin doesn’t press him for an explanation.

 

**Act 20, Scene 3**

 

Taemin falls asleep in his lap, the past two days finally catching up with him. Kibum says nothing when he blinks frantically, trying to stay awake, but throws an arm around his midriff and quietly wills him to succumb.

 

This is his last chance, Kibum realises, to commit as much of Taemin to memory as he possibly can; his strangely feminine haircut, the chubbiness of his cheeks, the warmth of his body where it is pressed against his own. He lightly strokes the exposed skin of his arms, remembering the time Taemin tried to carry his bags out to the car while playing some game or another on the phone, only to drop the phone, make a desperate grab for it, have it bounce off his shoe and hit him in the forehead. He had been wearing one of Kibum’s tank tops that day, and the memory of Taemin’s long, pale arms wrapped over his giggling, embarrassed face is something that Kibum thinks he’ll never forget.

 

The sun shines in his eyes. He’s aware that they have a time limit – they need to reach the lookout point, or at least know where it is, before the sun goes down – but it is so difficult to pull himself away from this utopia, this lazing about in the forest with just Taemin, that it almost seems as if his limbs have frozen into inaction. He wishes he can go to sleep too, and never wake up.

 

When he finally summons the strength to get up, Taemin shifts uneasily. Kibum slips the backpack under his head, and kisses his forehead. The younger settles back into sleep, arms curling around the backpack, and Kibum’s heart clenches. He takes a water bottle and starts trekking upward, knowing that the lookout point cannot be too far away. He knows that leaving Taemin loose and unguarded like this is extremely stupid, but the practical part of him acknowledges the fact that he wishes that he’ll come back to find Taemin gone.

 

**Act 20, Scene 4**

 

The view is magnificent. His fears that the earlier rain will have caused clouds to obscure the sky are unfounded; it stretches above him, deep orange and clear. Taemin will have his stars tonight.

 

**Act 20, Scene 5**

 

It is almost dark when Kibum gets back to where he left Taemin. He can already see a faint sprinking of stars dotting the sky, and the excitement of being able to show Taemin a sky as beautiful as a painting lifts his heart.

 

Taemin is not there.

 

There are scuff marks on the ground where Taemin lay earlier, and his pack is tossed aside, but there is no sign of Taemin. Even then, Kibum does not panic; his first thought is not that Taemin ran away, but that he woke up and wandered off somewhere. He sighs in frustration, wondering how he’s even going to begin looking for Taemin in the vast forest.

 

The crackle of dried leaved being stepped on draws his attention. A familiar shadow appears in the corner of his vision.

 

“Yah, Tae-”

 

It is Taemin. In his eyes is ice. In his hands is Kibum’s gun, and it is pointed at him.

 


	21. Act 21

 

**Act 21, Scene 1**

 

Betrayal.

 

Kibum stands stock still. He forces himself not to make a single movement, because he is a hair’s breadth away from taking that little bitch apart with his bare hands. Mentally, he’s tearing himself to shreds; to have left his gun in his backpack under his hostage’s head is a mistake for which he deserves to be shot. That he expected Taemin not to make use of that opportunity is evidence shows just how effectively he has been pussy-whipped by his aegyo and Key-hyung and make-me-yours bullshit. Something of his fury must have shown, because Taemin takes a step back.

 

“Go on,” Kibum hisses. “You’ve got the gun. You better finish what you started, because you’re not going to like what happens if I get my hands on you.”

 

Taemin laughs; short, sharp and bitter. “Did you really expect me to lie down and die? Really?”

 

“After everything I’ve done for you-”

 

“YOU KILLED MY MOTHER!” Taemin yells suddenly. Kibum forgets to feel betrayed for a moment; not once has he heard Taemin raise his voice in anger before. “You…yes, she was useless, she should have defended me, but she was still my umma. And you killed her. Did you really think I was supposed to be grateful to you for that?”

 

“I could have just killed you in your house.” In this moment, Kibum hates Taemin. He hates that he’s allowed himself to become vulnerable, to develop affection for this runt when he has clearly been harbouring such disgust of him all along. “I should have.”

 

“Yeah, you should have.” Taemin’s aim falters a bit, and he takes another step back. “Where do you get off, behaving like some sort of saint when you’re nothing but a common murderer? Or was it just a game to you?”

 

“Spare me the monologue. Go on, shoot. It’s not so easy, is it?”

 

This draws a frustrated yell from Taemin. He waves the gun around carelessly and this time it is Kibum who takes a step back. “Why did you do this to me?”

 

“I didn’t do anything to you.”

 

“Why didn’t you? Was it fun, making me fall for you?”

 

This is familiar territory for Kibum; he knows now why Taemin hasn’t even attempted to pull the trigger yet  _he sees an opening, a chance to play on Taemin’s emotions and catch him off guard_. “Not that again. It’s not love. What you’re feeling is just-”

 

“Stockholm Syndrome, I know.” Taemin scoffs, but Kibum can hear the crack in his voice. “How stupid can I be, right, to not be able to tell the difference between Stockholm Syndrome and liking someone?”

 

“Either use the gun or give it back, because you’re wasting my time.” It’s a dangerous ultimatum, but Kibum knows that Taemin is too emotional, too far gone to make a clean shot now.

 

Taemin sobs this time, and takes yet another step back. He lowers the gun. “Useless Taemin,” he mutters. “Too stupid to live, that’s what Appa used to say.” Kibum takes a minute step forward, and comes  _this_  close to lunging at him and knocking the gun away when he raises it again, and presses the muzzle firmly against the side of his head.

 

He forgets how to breathe. He forgets that he ever felt angry. He forgets everything but the sight of Taemin, holding a gun to his own head with tears streaming down his face.

 

“Tae-” in that moment, he would give anything, anything at all, to have that gun pointing back at him. Fear courses through his blood; a fear so absolute that he realises he’s never understood the meaning of the word before now. “Taemin, put the gun down.”

 

“Why? This is what you were going to do anyway, right?” He laughs, a horrible choking sound that could never be mistaken for an expression of joy. “I used to laugh when you cried in your sleep, you know. Big bad killer, crying at night for his Jjongie. But then you almost killed that man for touching me, even though it was my fault for wanting to go to that club in the first place, and it wasn’t so funny anymore. I decided to wake you up because I didn’t want to owe you anything. So can you imagine how it felt when you used to sit beside me because you thought  _I_  was having nightmares? Do you know what it was like? Why couldn’t you have been cruel? Why couldn’t you just let me hate you?”

 

Kibum’s stomach coils in knots. Suddenly, he’s a sixteen year old kid again, frozen and helplessly watching the most precious thing in his life slip away from him. “Stop this, Taemin, please.”

 

“I could have run away so, so many times. But you know, I was so addicted to you, to you holding me and calling me aegy and joking with me…I couldn’t leave. When you crashed your car, when I thought you had died, I thought I was going to die too. And when you told me to run, even though I knew things were going to end this way if I didn’t, all I could think was that it was worth if it meant that I could stay with you. And when you cried, I…I just couldn’t…How fucked up is that?” Taemin smacks the gun against his head, and Kibum’s knees nearly buckle.

 

“So many chances, and I threw them all away. How stupid can a person be, right? I guess I thought maybe you cared.”

 

He desperately tries to quash the panic rising in his chest, the feeling that he should have done something, anything to not be here  _that he should have had the courage to admit to himself that Taemin matters more than life itself before it came to this_. “I do care, Tae, I do, I lov-”

 

“Don’t lie to me,” Taemin snaps. “You haven’t done it before, don’t start now.” His tone softens then, almost as if he is talking to himself. “Still, I was happy for a while. Thanks for that, Key-hyung.”

 

His hand is steady now, his eyes glassy. Kibum knows what this means, rushes forward to stop Taemin before he can doom them both. He feels detached, almost dazed, and yet so painfully aware of each ticking second, each tiny movement of Taemin’s finger, as he squeezes down on the trigger.

 

The bang, the echo of the gun firing, is so loud in the silence of the forest that Kibum thinks it’ll ring in his head until the day he dies.

 

**Act 21, Scene 2**

 

Taemin’s shocked eyes are the first thing Kibum registers.

 

Then he feels his pulse, racing, under his fingers where they are clamped around Taemin’s wrist. The gun hangs limp in his hand, still smoking. Taemin’s eyes fall to somewhere by his left, and Kibum follows his gaze. His right sleeve is bloody, the stain still spreading like a flower blooming, but he doesn’t feel any pain. In reaching to pull the gun away from Taemin’s head, he somehow managed to angle it towards himself.

 

The sheer relief that sweeps over him makes him light-headed.

 

Taemin’s legs give way; he collapses against Kibum and they both fall, hard, on the uneven ground. The younger boy is crying loudly  _as if his heart is breaking_  and Kibum pulls him into a desperate embrace. Taemin struggles then, tries to push him away, but Kibum holds on tighter.

 

“I love you,” he admits, as much to himself as to Taemin. “So much. I love you, arraseo?”

 

Taemin shakes his head, but he stops trying to push Kibum away. Kibum cups his wet face and tilts it upwards, forcing Taemin to met his eyes. “Haven’t I taken care of you? Have I ever said no to anything you’ve asked for? Do you think I’d do that for just anybody?”

 

“Why…” Taemin barely says a word before sobbing breathlessly again. He claws at Kibum’s arms, and a sharp pain shoots up Kibum’s right shoulder. “Why did you let me think-”

 

“I was afraid.” Kibum pulls Taemin back against him and wraps his body around the smaller boy. Tears burn their way down his face, and he cannot keep his own sobs in check anymore, but what he says next is the truth he has been trying to deny, even to himself, from the moment he wrote away his feelings for Taemin as Lima Syndrome. “And because I was selfish. I wanted you to stay, I wanted to keep you with me for as long as possible. I’m so sorry, Taemin.”

 

“You’re horrible,” Taemin says, but there is no edge to his words. He puts a gentle hand on the blood-soaked sleeve of Kibum’s t-shirt. “I shot you.”

 

It makes him giggle; a wet, half-desperate giggle. “Well, after dropping my things and stepping on my feet and knocking me about with your bony elbows, what else was there left to do?”

 

“And yet, you love me.” Taemin is half-joking, but Kibum’s response is earnest.

 

“Yes.” Kibum pulls him into a hug one last time before releasing Taemin from his arms. “Yes, more than anything in the world.”

 

They stand up, half-supporting each other’s shaking forms. Kibum stumbles, lightheaded, and Taemin quickly slings his undamaged arm over his shoulder. “We should go to the hospital.”

 

The wound is a flesh-wound, Kibum discovers. It’s just one more blessing in a night full of unexpected wonders. Using a strip he tears from the spare t-shirt in his backpack, he fashions himself a makeshift bandage – this sort of first aid is something he’s perfectly familiar with.

 

“Come on,” he says, carrying his backpack with his good arm. “We’ve got a bit of a way to go.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“I promised you stars, didn’t I?”

 

**Act 21, Scene 3**

 

The Milky Way is splashed across the sky like glittering paint across a midnight canvass. It stretches over them, as far as the eye can see, twinkling merrily and, he thinks, reminding humans that they are not alone in the vast universe.

 

Taemin is resting his head on his shoulder, head tilted upwards. The soft strands of his hair cascade down Kibum’s shoulder; he watches him watch the stars, remembering how beautiful he looked admiring the sky from the backseat of his now-destroyed car. He still looks beautiful, but in a different way. Back then, he was beautiful in the way a wild stag is beautiful; distant and exotic. Now, every feature of his face has become him, and he is beautiful simply because he is Taemin.

 

“It’s just like that night, Key-hyung-”

 

“Kibum.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“My name,” he explains, feeling a bit giddy about giving away so much control, like maxing out a credit card while shopping  _or maybe it’s the blood loss_. “My name is Kibum.”

 

“Kibum-hyung.” Taemin tries his name out. “Key-bum hyung. I’m going to stick to Key-hyung. It’s shorter.”

 

“Your laziness is truly impressive.”

 

Taemin rolls against his shoulder, watching the sky once more. “Thank you for keeping your promise.”

 

He smiles in reply, and the younger burrows closer. “You’re my boyfriend now, right?”

 

That makes him laugh. “Are you twelve?”

 

Taemin pouts and nips the side of his neck. “You’re not that much older.”

 

Kibum nods in agreement; for the first time in a long time, he feels like a person whose life is ahead of him. He looks up, at the vast expanse of sky stretched over them, and feels immortal once more.

 

**Act 21, Scene 4**

 

The same park ranger they met earlier is in the pension’s lobby when they hobble in; Kibum bloody and pale, Taemin dirty and huffing under the weight of the backpack.

She patches him up while alternately threatening to have them fined, admonishing them for their recklessness and informing them about the myriad of ways they could have died.

 

She puts the one last piece of tape over her handiwork and sits back. “Why on earth did you think it was a good idea to disregard our warnings?”

 

Kibum shrugs. “My boyfriend wanted to see the stars.”

 

A smile and a blush grace Taemin’s face. The ranger grumbles under her breath about ignorant city dwellers, but he can see the corners of her lips quirking up too.

 

**Act 21, Scene 5**

 

He wakes slowly, easing into consciousness like coming up from a long dive. Pale sunlight ghosts into the room from under the drawn curtains. His watch ticks loudly on the nightstand. His arm aches. 

 

But the thing Kibum is most aware of is the warm body pressed against his own; the fact that Taemin is breathing deeply in his sleep, right next to him. His back is pressed into Kibum’s side, his head pillowed on Kibum’s shoulder, and his breathing is hypnotic. Kibum has been dreading this day for so long that he still can’t quite bring himself to believe that it is not a dream.

 

Kibum is not the type to laze in bed, but he doesn’t move because he hasn’t the faintest idea what to do. The first order of business will be getting Taemin a different identity; he’s supposed to be dead, after all. He’ll need to finish school. And he’ll have to go to university, somehow,  _even if Kibum has to sell his house to pay for tuition fees_ , because he’ll need that if he is going to have any chance of decent life. Maybe they should go overseas  _somewhere in Europe, perhaps, he’s always wanted to live there_ , where they will be guaranteed anonymity.

 

Then there is Jinki to think about. He feels a twinge of guilt for deceiving his well-meaning friend and boss, and not a little fear of his anger. Still, some small part of him thinks that Jinki will be happy for him  _Jinki has been a better friend to him than he deserves_.

 

Kibum decides to worry about Jinki later, and returns to agonising about Taemin.

 

Now that he isn’t Taemin’s captor anymore, he’s not entirely sure how their relationship, if it can even be called that, will play out.

 

Movement against his side draws his attention. Taemin is awake, and he rolls over to press his face into Kibum’s chest and to wrap his arm around his body, snuggling into him like he’s a giant pillow. A second ticks by, and he opens his eyes.

 

And then he smiles; a dazzling, face-wide smile so filled with contentment and adoration that Kibum loses his breath. There is an odd feeling in his chest, and he absently reaches up to knead the flesh over his heart. It becomes worse, spreading out and causing his fingertips to tingle, tears to prick at the corners of his eyes.

 

“Key-hyung? What’s wrong?”

 

Kibum opens his mouth to answer Taemin, and his answer gives him the clarity he’s been missing. “Nothing.”

 

It’s been so long since he was happy that he’s forgotten what it feels like.

 

“Nothing’s wrong, Taeminnie.” He pulls Taemin closer and pushes his chapped lips against the younger’s plump ones, heart soaring ever higher when the kiss is reciprocated. “Everything is just right.”

 

He’s perfectly glad to stay in this moment forever, free of his earlier doubts, opting not to move even when Taemin’s restlessness makes him mischievous. He pulls the strap of Kibum’s tank top down one arm, exposing one side of his chest, and kisses Kibum's bare skin while keeping his eyes trained on Kibum, as if he's asking for permission. Kibum's not sure what for, but he nods slightly anyway. Taemin grins then, and sucks a mark over Kibum’s heart. He takes his time and soothes the lingering burn with his tongue, and Kibum watches the process with fascination. He traces the scar on Taemin’s shoulder, feeling the younger shudder slightly at the gentle ghosting of his fingers, and tries not to be aroused at the fact that they have marked  _claimed_  each other so irrevocably.

 

“You’re mine,” Taemin says.

 

Kibum says yes because he’s lazy,  _the truth is that he has been Taemin’s ever since looked him in the eye and saw hope. It just took him a while to realise that_. He reverts to type, and covers the ridiculous sentimentality he feels with sarcasm.

 

“I’m worried now. The way you treat your things, I think I’ll be broken beyond repair within the year.”

 

Taemin becomes serious. “No,” he says. “No, I’ve seen you heartbroken. I’ll never let that happen again.” Fingers lace between his, and then he’s being kissed. Their entwined lips speak to him and Kibum understands, finally understands, that Taemin has been his for just about as long. When they break apart for air, Taemin pokes his side.

 

“What do we do now?”

 

He shrugs. “All of time, all of space, everything that ever was or ever will be. Where do you want to start?”

 

Taemin’s brows furrow in confusion. It stands to reason, of course, that he has picked yet another boyfriend with no appreciation for popular culture. He laughs. “It’s nothing, aegy, I’m just being weird again.”

 

That earns him another kiss, one he gladly accepts.

 

Taemin asks again, breathing his words against Kibum’s lips. “So, where are we going?”

 

“Wherever you like.”

 

 

**~THE END~**

 

 **A/N:** This fic was something I started because it was a fun idea, but over time, it's grown into so much more. I'm tearing up at the thought of ending it, I think, because I have come to adore Kibum and Taemin. 

No, there won't be any sequels. I'm really tempted to write one, because I can't quite bear to let go of them yet, but there is some virtue in knowing when to end a fic. There was a story to tell, and it has been told. Where Kibum and Taemin go from here, whether they live happily ever after or whether they go their separate ways, is as much up to you, my dear readers, as it is up to me. I like to imagine, though, that they find happiness with each other. 

 

Lots of love, 

 

sherleigh. 


End file.
